to brighten this darkened soul
i often dream
the most awful
things possible
kittens murdered
babies gunned
down in a church
nuns raping little
boys in class
enough hatred
to brighten this
darkened soul
i wake up after
all this fucking
feeling refreshed
the beauty of
being damaged
right off the tongue
they like to believe
i have it easy
i don’t have to work
that the poems just
slip right off the
tongue
they don’t understand
my grandmother’s
bathroom floor and
my older cousin
molesting me
my father’s hands
around my neck
the impact of a skull
crashing through a
windshield
how cold steel feels
on your lips any
given saturday
night
i’d offer my shoes
but they’ve already
done plenty of
walking
wants to remember
my dreams lately are
the old lovers having
their way with me
i think my inner child
is trying to rewrite my
history into something
it actually wants to
remember
and here i am drinking,
trying to forget it
quite the struggle
©2020 J.J. Campbell All rights reserved.
J.J. Campbell (1976 – ?) is stuck in the suburbs wondering where the lonely housewives are hiding. He’s been widely published over the last 25 years, most recently at Record Magazine, Red Eft Review, Synchronized Chaos, Horror Sleaze Trash, and The Beatnik Cowboy. You can find him most days on his mildly entertaining blog, evil delights.
Cajun Mutt Press 