Hello, and welcome to "An Argument for Angels", the place where I will stash my poetry for 2026's Na/GloPoWriMo 2026. One poem per day, all April! Let's do this thing. Most recent poems will be at the top ♥

God Heals

April 3

I excised you from me;
wings and all.
I ripped us apart in decadent twists of pain,
sinew tearing from sinew, the gentle snap of a hollow bone,
the low pained call, trembling like distant thunder
of a storm to tired to hit --
the weary anguish of an angel.

I removed you from my soul,
glass shard by glass shard,
paring the skin on my fingers, made rosy with life,
as I built you back up into something broken along the edges,
slivers of crystal as facets on the diamond of your soul,
fed you my blood instead.

at some point,
your heart beat,
and my heart beat,
together,
wholly separate.

your lips formed with words, your tongue
a song sung in registers so high
only the holy
or the absolute beginners
would be able to hear it:
"ruin us. split us. break us.
let us become two from one."

your ichor and my blood,
your zephyr and my breath,
the cloud of your body and my clump of earth,
forever sundered, and made better than one.

I set you free on new wings.
You bid me dive into clearer waters.
We pull apart, and come together again, and again,
a two-part symphony of the angelic and the beloved child,
and our shared reward for choosing as we did:
"There never was an Angel of Chaos.
Don't be afraid anymore."

PEM Poem

April 2

(in case you're wondering)

in another life
I'd have a reason for it.
a late night. a drink.

the fact of the matter is
I just stood up and sat down.

in another world
I'd have a cure for the thing.
some pill, some potion.

another body
would find this reaction wild,
extreme, dramatic.

there are no blessings.
no quiet upsides to this.
nothing you can sell.

just a wide ache, feverlike,
and turning over in bed.

do not even try--
do not start with me on this.
sail it up your arse:

wellness, mindfulness, yoga
kindly fuck off. let me nap.

I will be sweeter
kinder, tolerant, and awake
maybe tomorrow

for now, there's only malaise
and the facts: ME just sucks.

Clockwork Liminality Cycle

April 1

all of these are both linked and separate...and tanka form.

seeking grace. searching
in hidden places for dreams
too old to recall.

a personal history
as fragile as antique lace.

...

the sun was setting.
the angels folded their wings,
so we closed our eyes.

the risen and the fallen,
all faded from time and space.

...

I felt it back then:
how the lifestream flowed through us,
how our magic danced.

if I knew how it would end,
I would have faded quicker.

...

back then, there were wings
elements, magic, fear, hopes
belonging somewhere.

I crave it and I mourn it;
and I know...we can't go back.

...

resplendant in blue
sky-tinted waves of satin
settling against you.

at the time, I loved you so
in memories, I still do.

...

do you think of me?
or was my memory lost
when my part was played?

do you look back and miss me?
the doll returned to the shelf.