Succor and Triage

Here we are,

back at that old crossroads.

Burning all our angels,

just a moment of close,

inner reflection,


Take away now,


Succor and triage,

pain and trauma,

gone in an instant,

but in an instant

they return.


You can’t unbreak an egg.

You can’t undo your sin.

Everything is a mistake,

you might as well get used to it.

From where I stand

I can see you

wrapped in your funerary best.

You haven’t even started.

You’re trying to begin

at the end,

but that’s all that you know.


Taught with love


and fists


Dreams sold as truth

and then denied.

The loving hug,

becomes a choke,

your tears of shame

a running joke.


No trusting eyes,

no brilliant smile.

No wonder you’re here in denial,

trying to make

a life from this

is more that what

you are equipped.


So let me help you.

Lift you up;

if only for a second.

You’re alive.

You’ve survived,

and now it’s up to you

to find a new beginning.

Burning all your angels

at the crossroads

is just an old wives’ tale.

It doesn’t work,

but you do.



HG – 2019

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