"I Still Give Myself Grace", "Buttered Toast Memories", & "Your Wing" by Robert J. W.

I Still Give Myself Grace

I pour out another

non-alcoholic beverage for

the suburbia where I

used to

force my head to lay.

The tear stains on

my pillows may be a

distant prostitute to

whom I

still owe money but

I still give

myself grace.

Even the

bullies who placed my

third eye in

toilets will be

forgiven

in time.

For now, I

let old winter days pile up.

They’re only

terminal, after all.

Buttered Toast Memories

Buttered toast memories

march into my sinuses.

They are led by the

caws of nameless birds.

Do I greet it all

with a friendly wave

or a

corrosive snarl?

I glance at my

watch for

advice; the years

shuffle away like my

mother’s throat.

May I choose to be grateful

regardless, for this

life is

nestled on a fault line of

all the

pills I take.

Your Wing

This loathing of

mine lays solely

on your tombstone.

A stray memory

or three

may lay eggs in

now barren garbage dumps but

it’s always the

broken light-tubes to

which I return.

The shard don’t even

hurt anymore; they’re

a minor annoyance I

shrug off along with

the millionth lie you told.

It’s frustrating that

I still miss you but

your wing

is still

warm

after all these years.

Robert J. W. is a poet and writer from Morgantown, WV that is known for his work about mental health and memory. He has been writing poetry for 20 years now. He has frequently published collections with Alien Buddha Press (including Dusty Video Game Cartridges and Bed of Bones) as well as being featured in several of their zines and anthologies. He enjoys listening to music, meditating, reading, and hanging with friends. You can find him on Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/Robertjw4688\