Poems by T.J. Swisher

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 Lost on the Curb
  bury the hurt,
6 feet under the heart,
   tell the memories to gather,
and hang them in the hall closet,
 
 forgive or let the demon conquer,
failure to understand but condemn,
  unlike tying or untying shoes,
it's a complicated braid,
 with no instructions or pictures where or how,

   the dagger of words,
shredded deep into the being,
 remorse was not felt,
and the soul oozing from the unhealed laceration,
   lies against the curb of cement
along the asphalt parking lot,
 forgotten in the frosted February winds,

   sitting here head throbbing
 in a surmounting headache,
with granite muscles,
  the sensation of being completely alone,
reenters with the realization of ignorance,
   and stupidity nipping at the heels,
an illusion of a bond, a fascade of friendship,
 crosses from dream to daylight thought,
salted tears gather against a broken face,

  for all the emotion consumed
in the betrayal of words,
   three souls interact and vaporize one,
the burden carries in the scourage mind.



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