Jonathan Dowdle - two poems

3 AM Insomnia

Perhaps, my darling,
The most intimate thing we can do
Is give another our sorrow,
To be open, split, and vulnerable,
Even while knowing
The wound might not be sealed,
But left open, and crying,
The way a child does,
Without shame, or reprimand,
But merely
To have the hurt held
As though it were just another
Part of us.



Ache

You beat until you bruised my heart,
You don't get to ask
Why it's gone black. 



Jonathan Douglas Dowdle was born in Nashua, NH and has traveled throughout the US, he currently resides in South Carolina. Previous works have appeared or are appearing in: Hobo Camp Review, 322 Review, The Write Place At The Write Time, Blue Hour Review, and After The Pause.

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