the hurt never goes away
it simply dissolves
into a vague or fleeting feeling
—one you can’t quite
put your finger on
like when trying to interpret
a painting on a wall
seemingly evolving
over the course of time
february two thousand twenty-five
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
seven years of bad luck
staring at me from the
rearview mirror
I was told I could never
look at myself in the same manner
in which I had grown accustom
that there wasn’t a mechanism
to put the pieces back together
—so I learned to get along anyway
as if living in an alternative world
one in which reflections
remain out of focus
only occasionally seen
from within
december two thousand twenty-four
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the pain is more or less
bearable
I tell myself
in between breaths
my words
are unrecorded
I hit the play button
but there’s nothing
but ghost static
the sun keeps
disappearing
earlier & earlier
I get up & look
out the window
tell myself
it must be cloudy
tonight
and limp back
to your bedside
& pretend
to steal your pain
august two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I don’t know what it means
to feel your pain
how different it must be
than my own
irrefutable & non-replicable
how do you channel it
turn it into something new
earth in the palm of your hand
creating karma w/a
little wind & fire & spit
I once read you can’t
take it with you
wealth & promises & lies
but what you can take
hovers in the background
restless & willing
july two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
ankle sprain wrapped twice
take two aspirin and call
me in the morning
the phone never did ring
and two days later
she had fled on foot
I looked out the door
and all I saw was wind
whipping through the avenue
reminding me of a song
I’d been meaning to finish
days later she was back
upstairs and immobile
either fast asleep
or wide awake
fighting bouts of cold sweat
and hallucinating blue skies
swearing to god one of these days
she’s gonna dance again
march two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
the good doctor told me the pain
manifested from my mind
from repressed emotions
determined to breach the surface
of course I knew that was unlikely
since I had already committed
to hundreds of the tiniest of needles
designed to free my malevolent spirits
may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
don’t be afraid
there is nothing wrong
now that the light is gone
now that the pain
once permanent like the
morning sun
has transitioned into
a vague sensation
I didn’t mean to scare you
but you had fallen
into an endless dream
inching in the void
searching for candles
whispering to yourself
what wickedness
takes away such power
alas it was not meant to be
the irises in your eyes
plucked away
by the angels of the sky
taking you further
and further away
promising their beauty
will last forever
may two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
I rescued you from the scoundrels
washed you and restitched you
and let you lie in my bed
I took out your eyes while
you were asleep
and pinned them inside your heart
whispered softly everything
would be fine in the morning
I promised myself you would no longer
be used for the benefit of others
went on to explain how any pain
you experience from this day forth
would be yours and yours only
april two thousand fourteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
self-inflicted physical pain
is nothing compared to
once abandoned realities
appearing out of the thinnest of air
unfurling into razor-sharp focus
and leaving you crippled
and crying
and praying for the comfort
of that long lost world
inside a world
inside a world
inside a world
july two thousand thirteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
you entered the ward
with a smile in your eye
quietly knelt beside me
and whispered of a world
where the dazzling white light
promises to free me
from the pain inside
october two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved
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