I can't threaten empathy into you 

or shake some sense into that dense 

train of thought. 

The reaction is seductive

but it creates what I try to sweep away.

I have to be careful though, 

to not let all this brushing off 

to create friction in me 

& set fires to the strings that tug at me the most.

I want to feel justified, 

but angry boy who becomes a man,

I see that in you too.

I see elements out of your control cause a storm. 

The best way you can see through it

is to be scarier than what scares you;

to be the wolf, always the wolf, 

to show people this is what you know from life so far,

not even bothering with sheep’s clothing.

But even a beast 

surviving solely by its sharp spirit & teeth, 

still howls a lonely song to the moon.

.Laura Curren.

I swallow tears so they don’t leak through the phone

& I agree quietly when you say to me,

“You know I’ve always been kind of a gypsy.” 

The cries I stifle meet the voice I haven’t let speak,

where they wade in the “deep down,” 

where I’ve always known.

I feel lost but can retrace steps.

I kept a lantern lit in my heart for you. 

I felt a pull to the flame 

whenever I’d see you again.

A story ignited in your eyes;

was it yours or was it mine?  

We created chemistry out of chaos. 

You’d be calling me everyday 

& I answered like I always have.

It felt like you were coming back to me. 

& maybe a gypsy can have a home,

temporarily.

          

           .Laura Curren.