Cop Cars at Lamar and Central

the blue lights sprinkle the wall
from the window and across the street

we crash land onto my bed.
it meets us in the air

I pull the fluff of the comforter down
to see your stubbled cheek on the pillow

we don’t talk
but there’s always that newborn smile in your sleepy eyes
you let me cradle myself in the bend of your knees

on the nights when I don’t have you
I hear a gunshot
and wonder if you’re home yet

the blue spin of the lights
come and go
I don’t know if I’m okay

the pizza delivery guy waits at the gate
while someone down the street
is on the splitting end of a bullet

there’s a buzzing behind the south wall of my bedroom
I don’t know if it’s the air conditioner or the city
churning underneath me.

Jeanna Paden is a freelance health and wellness writer and copywriter. Her work has been published by Foothill: A Journal of Poetry, Her Culture, Pulp Poets Press, and others. Connect with her at PadenFreelancing.com or on Twitter @HalfwayToItBlog.