Always & Never (Poetry)

Always I have that hand on me
scraping away my thoughts like paper
from old walls
baring damp-patch memory
those crumbling plaster islands
where the heart’s volcanoes cooled
in the placid blue-paint oceans
as night falls.

Always the voice that rips my peace
thunders in far-off valleys — threatens
undermines
the weight of rain lowers cloud
the moon is lost — blinded now
blacked-out stars are unconcerned
with prophecy — I missed each turn
misread signs.

Never escaping that true self
worrying at edges curling hard
dried scabs weep
give an airing to their wounds
beneath that cool-crust façade
a lunar history pocked
in war — a cratered mystery
skin-dust-deep.

Always unnamed — that lack in me
unexplained the gap or reason why
blood’s been let
orphaned on the mountaintop —
unblessed — the goat evicted —
a crazy kid too blue-eyed
for belonging — half-convicted
as a threat.

Never the warm, forgiving kiss
always the bitter wind full of blame
withering
never changing — blowing wild
stunting, blistering the child
never kind or mellowed-out
her fierce lash of words an angry
smothering.

Forever at a distance now
keeping a vague count of years between
death and death
always vigilant — dreading
news certain to be coming
storms at sea — gale force warning
never sure if it will free or
take what’s left.