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Invisible Angel

A guardian angel tried to fly beside her.

But the angel fell,

Dirty hands sullied in urban sweat retched from the entrails of chemtrails,

Vials, potions and lotions,

A motion of sickness.

As his power faded in and away from the light,

She became blighted by the ubiquitous sight,

Of his slim figure dimmed black in penumbras spiking up from city nights,

Eyes that once glimmered of real gave way to the memories of past sealed deals that were rewritten.

She was no longer smitten.

No longer could she see him.

She knew what he was and she knew why he was there,

Because she was all that there was and all he held dear,

She was all that he cared for.

But with the rising din of an Autumn spinning,

Spitting in,

Listening to words that she’s already heard,

More than once,

She missed them.

No longer could she see him.

Wings crippled,

The angel fell through to a face no longer new,

What grew in its place was a fight that felt ordinary.

And if that was all that she wanted, she could look around and find plenty.

Belief in the dream sagged into small moments filled with waiting,

With a fallen angel sleeping beside her,

She was pacing,



In and around a small room with smaller doors into nowhere she wanted to be,

She screamed at the last trace of the ghost,


“Please. Just free me.”

No longer did she believe in him.

Now all angels need to be seen to be believed,

And without even a flicker of he,

She sowed seeds of resentment,

She bent him.

No longer could she see him.

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