Cure for Hatred

There is no cure for hatred
Not through offense
Given or taken
Put up or torn down
Tears can’t wash beneath the skin
Nor can burns heal the same
The sickness in the branches
Can’t be trimmed by the mere leaves
Setting fire to the sickly crops
Still leaves the field aflame

This is how hatred works
It takes what you have
And what you need
Rots it
Burns it
And hungrily breathes in a final breath
A dark cloud of hearts and minds
Cooked to perfection in stolen hellfire
The last thing hatred feels
Is it’s own extinguishing
But not before it consumes and destroys
Everything else

-Galwyn

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Escaping

I see the future so ideal
But it’s divided from the real
All the spending and saving
No joy or misbehaving

Placing the cards
For a game of dice
I imagine a life
Which I’ve grown to need
But when I look to the faces
I see them, and hers, but not me

I crave fast moments filled with fire
Yet I hoard funds with letdowns
In the coffin of desire
Burying the dead
As if they would wake

Yet these yet-to-be dreams
Fall apart at the seams
For it could all end in fire and silence
In three minutes
Not thirty years

So the life that I’m seeing
Is fleeting
And fading
From the life of a being
Born into beating and breaking
Robbing and raping
Torn up and fractured
Between fleeing and taking
I don’t have 30 years
For a future that’s faking
So I’ll set those dreams ablaze
Settling for escaping

-Galwyn

It Shouldn’t Hurt

It shouldn’t hurt
The scalpel slices deep
Traces my veins and lets them run wild
My brain and heart are dead
As they should be
Spine tapped and arms strapped
Legs wrapped tight
Bound to this skin
And I cannot flee

This shouldn’t hurt
The words of calming
Like pulses of a monitor
Ringing their way
Singing their way
Out of you and into me

This shouldn’t hurt
They ways things are and ought to be
Yet there wasn’t a formula
No chemical compound
Which brought you here to me

But it does hurt
My arms quaking
Temples throbbing and collapsing
Breath scattered and brief
Staring desperate to the florescent light
Wishing it wouldn’t burn
Wishing you were all I could see
It tears me limb from limb
Cracks every tooth
From clenching in my sleep
You’ll stay with me
Like this pain
It shouldn’t hurt
But if it didn’t,
There wouldn’t be you and me

-Galwyn

4th Degree

Hiss
Forked tongues of flame
Lick blistered lesions
Of selfish red seasons
Defacing my brain

The first layer burns
The pain unexpected
Yet pain redoubles
Second layer,
Unprotected

Hiss Hiss
Burn through muscle
My mind, now narrow
Inky black sludge
Broken bones, melted marrow

-Galwyn