Zaria Ware

humans

(we are as simple as this)

let us

Let us pretend that we are wanderers tonight
that do not have names nor faces and
only feelings that speak more than our
mouths ever could
we will be distant yet enigmatic with
your cigarette in hand and faith in my own

Hands
we will be hands that feel and touch and breathe
Skin
that feels caresses gently but does not hold back theories

I will attempt to heal
your spine that was so delicately laced together by
fate and torn apart by people that do not wish you well
and you will smile
brightly as if the carpet beneath our feet is not infested with
fleas in this ratty motel

and let us pretend that we have money and food and friends
with hope resting in our chests and vapor in our lungs


I will pretend that I am alive
tonight.

(award winning by Zaria Ware)


chicken nuggets 

I met her at a McDonalds with one of my fingers dipped in
ketchup
because I became far too engrossed in the watching of people
so pained I wanted to touch them like their mothers did when
they broke their ankles

she was solemn, as if at a funeral service for a man
she did not love nor know, but wanted to sympathize with
her colleagues

she had the ten piece chicken nugget, a diet pop, and a bright
diet
magazine as
this was most likely her last planned excursion to the grease
infested restaurants in favor of boxes that sport the words
‘100 Calories’ in all caps
the girl/woman sat at the edge of her seat, ankles crossed and neat,
eyes so downcast they silently beat herself inwardly because
she was so fat

one nugget
there was one nugget left and she looked at me dead in the eyes and said,

“Want one?”

I felt my face heat up at the thought of being
caught
but the look in her eyes was one of regret as if this
last nugget was hers and I took my finger out of the ketchup packet
and nodded at her

because she was solemn as if she was
at a funeral service and
I the latest victim 

(award winning by Zaria Ware) 

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