Jonathan Ballam > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

Snow sticks to my boots like old words from my mother

for Sarah

i think i'm growing up today

poem about being masculine

based on actual events

two brains shimmer in between veins of streetlamps

his eyes are open or even alive to pulses of motion

the brush doesn't know there is a hand

a chaos hatches inside

only the lonely ones have scars