Concrete Halo
I wear a concrete halo
cracked and gray
from hitting on the floor
and looking away
Streetlamps smear a yellow bruise
on concrete
trucks howling
underneath the feet
Smoke mixing with the diesel exhaust
counting up the hours
that I lost
Lighter thumb is scarred
from heat and skin
where the trouble
and the burn begin
They told me to be calm
and treat the rage
like a dog you lock
inside a pen
But my chest is full of nails
and broken parts
heavy beating
of the mechanical hearts
Guidance office smelled of coffee stale
handing me the plan
intended to fail
Bullet points of potential in the lap
while my ears were filling
with the snap
Knuckles aching from the locker door
looking at the patterns
on the floor
Apologies tasting just like chalk
listening to the teachers
talk and talk
Watching the clock
and thinking of the fight
learning how to bite back
in the night
A hum starting deep
behind the teeth
from swallowing the scream
and the grief
Pillars carry paint
like ancient text
names of all the kids
who might be next
Scrubbed away
but shining in the light
ghosts upon the rebar
in the night
Hand upon the grit
and on the stone
feeling all the battles
I have known
Standing in the noise
with the silent crew
the ones the city chewed
and never knew
No angel wings
just leather and the rain
heavy with the smoke
and with the stain
Boots with blown-out seams
and stubborn beat
refusing to keep time
with the street
One day the back will fold
and spine will crack
tired of the weight
upon the rack
But I will hear the bridge
inside the bone
where the late-night plans
were overgrown
I won’t thank the pain
for what it did
or the damage that I kept
and hid
But I know the spine
is straight and tall
because I stood up
after every fall
City keeps on grinding
in the cold
nothing fixed
by stories I have told
Climbing down
with shoulders hanging low
broken halo
is the one I know