Haunted Corners

There’s a place, at the intersection
of break downs and choices ahead,
where I have ownership, but avoid.

Courage resides there, and other
parts of self unnamed – I haunt
the place by night, intrigued by

the camaraderie, lack the guts
to venture into the unknown –
decidedly a criminal element;

need a sense of adventure to aid
escape, squeeze me past seedy,
neglected, cracked pane spaces;

lack wheels, coordinates confused –
am located who knows where –
war for independence my identifier.

In daylight, I am redeemed, visited
by semblances of normalcy, sweet
offerings of obligation, distraction;

revel in youth’s exuberance, pretend
that gifts of kindness sustain me,
ignore the relentlessness of corners.

Compulsive Clotheshound

I would befriend hesitation,
take her shopping with me,
invest the time, but impulse
is my constant companion.

Hesitation, born of shared
trauma, labours over pain-
filled decisions; my need is
palpable, throbbing, must

suffocate it beneath layers
of numbing fabric, weight;
afraid to show myself, afraid
that she will find me, block

any progress, or worse, make
me pay for these layers of
stolen moments; encounter
crazy reflected in her eyes.

(Photo from getleashedmag.com)