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Everyone dies in the summer When the sun doesn’t set. It just sits in the sky Like a scar that won’t heal But instead only gushes Hot, infected, Blood Over everything. It is murder in broad daylight.
There is a poem about unhappiness That is written so beautifully That the author who penned it Knew she would never scrawl Something like it ever again And so she got up, Put a gun into her mouth, And clicked Only to find that she had Picked up a water gun instead That shot a … Continue reading
I’m in a bathroom and so is she, a hair found in the inside of my pee-pee. Did she put it there or did I, when we were kissing, foundling, a sexual goodybye? I pull it out, the buoy in a rumbling sea Piss screams, and we bleeds from me.
The candle starts tall Before sputtering To burn bright, Bright enough to make It small And smaller yet Until it is only a wick And a weak flame That could light The whole house on fire.
Chip a tooth from the Universe, Or maybe just kiss a bit too hard And you’ll find that any love story you tell Can be told with the same taste And smell And eventual bite-marks that never quite heal Because for a while, a shorter while than you knew they knew you knew, Another person … Continue reading
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