i don’t believe
like i used to;
if you can strike down
the gardeners
who will tend to the garden
when the sun beats down
when crawlers feast on roots;
when you strike down the gardeners
who will watch over your tulip field
Tag: Literature
how i met
i fell in love with a Robin
an tedding out
is the new normal
featuring a segment
of regret
reporting live
from channel news one
transitional paradox
it’s hard to look you in the eyes
and tell you i failed
when all i want to do
is give you
something to be proud of
fading
loose colors
twisting the ends
slapping the packet against tired wrist
i can feel
the end
grasping against air
pressed against my throat
inching forward
bloody nails held vacant
wasp fingernails to the hive
only one queen
found a prison with a hundred inmates two guards and a king wearing two crowns
i hate it here
quarantine crush
can hear the singing
two buildings over
three stories up,
she’s cooking dinner
she loves Otis Redding
can see her shadow sometimes
as she spins by;
she saw me once
waved and went about
she had her hair up,
maybe she was cleaning,
i wish i was wearing a better shirt-
next time
trespassing
broke a promise
haven’t told them yet
rounding the pillars if a cracked skull
how to rip a newspaper
over shattered glass
yellow feet
in the valley of the fallen
we have no eyes
bound by moon and leaves
we leave our mortal feet
in the valley we fall in
our souls take flight
mirror of a feat
you show before you leave
we are the valley of the fallen
song of yellow
scared moths of the flames
a thunderous bark
n will call again
in fellow yellow
shopping demons
she said
there was no heaven
i asked her what she would go after
she said to the mall
messy lap
these eyes
will never fall from yours
as we walk across moons
walk across seas
will swim towards land
float through open trenches
to your arms;
frosting-
level heads bang like coconuts
Saint's Muse 