All in Poetry

The Thespian

You swallow the light / A familiar feeling / Envelops you / A perfect stranger / How many times has it been / That you put on the face of / Someone you’re not / Hoping it will be different this time?


I will love you into caskets / and weave you into baskets / To cradle all my peeling thoughts / Of wisdom words in clawed out hopes / Of hollowed hands dug into dirt / Of hallowed strands restored toward hurt