poetry by Sage Hardiman
Dice were rolled and I did not land a seven. Yesterday I was told I will never go to heaven; Someone laughed in my face and called me Kevin. Phony, fake, snowflake. Here I lay sobbing because I cannot make Obliviousness see that I am no mistake. Radical crazy. I just want a break from the tourture making me glazy, A sign of respect is all I want, not even a daisy. He tears a hole in the knoll of my soul Heats it with coal Eager to show the mirror that I’m unwhole and unable to take control. Here I am asking the universe for mercy Everyone ignores my anguish except Circe.