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abandoned homes have sparked so much thought and emotion in me since I was young

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and it took all this time to learn

the hands of a clock won't catch you.

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There is a weight

to sondering.

The windows crack

and tears leak in, wrinkling

the fragile heart

that can only pump

so much from

the wishing well.

There is a found object

stuck in every machination.

Perhaps that's where

the darkness

and the kindness

come from.

Robert J. W.

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Adonis, from a poem titled “Unintended Worship,” featured in If Only the Sea Could Sleep

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can i come home?

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I take all the times

I've wanted to die

and I coddle them

in my wings.

Crying midnights, alone,

become smiling evenings

where I sit

next to my heart

and let out

a brief chuckle

that sounds like a lullaby

for the river

and the nylon

and the razors.

Robert J. W.

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I came home to the greens of cheap jewelry

leaking down my sink

he takes my eyelashes in the palms of his hands

closes his fists

and hangs from them

my skin pulls the curve of my eyes, opened wide. delicate veins always beg for the pry—

I see him sober

and then I get high.