AN ABRIDGED HISTORY OF SHADOW ANGELS

we were stitched  
from odd pieces    
gathered like flotsam    
in the womb,    
genetic wonders    
monsters    
and misfits    
bland as dirt    
glimpsed and forgotten    
just that easy    
vampires    
haunting the rafters    
contrite    
craving redemption    
scratching at windows    
and begging    
to come inside    
and always    
always    
wanting    
always    
desperate    
always hungry    
and needing more    
   
we were born    
to the gutter    
to the bottle    
and to the needle    
and we were cast out    
that we might    
wander    
like ghosts    
until the ache in our hearts    
grew as though from seed    
and we became holy    
and transformed into angels    
who blend with the night    
and carry the water    
and tend to the fallen    
and dress their wounds    
and heal their aching hearts