they wished the worst on you
slip and fall
into a pool of your own blood
streaming from your diseased dreams
while your mother chokes
on her own shitty unseasoned cooking.
all for saying
you were excited for Moon Knight.
Tag: Poetry
a little space
this little space
this little space that we carved out of wooden tools
this little space – is ours.
dingy dirty damp,
full of holes and ants in the summer
but it’s ours.
this little space
in outer space
they can see us dance
first time at second base
setting up our bookcase.
when we left
this little space
all that was left
some kid shoes, a needle and a jar of pickles,
this little place
has a lot of memories
packed in two separate cars.
birth certificate
future sight
is inexpensive
it only cost me
my youth
last day off
last year
a shakey handoff
(at best)
constantly choosing between
life and sleep
haven’t slept in years
when i do;
my dreams were a gothic spinoff
love interest played by wednesday.
black and white lens
for thee ending send-off
all black molotov
(for those who couldn’t be here)
with fireworks
and a rip off.
it’s january
am i
a real person
hard to tell
non from fiction;
empty beach
growing waves crashed against lost sand;
is this a metaphor?
am i the wave? the sand?
more like the beach,
as a fly on the wall
watching the waves
watching the sand
waiting for something different
but i remember;
Nine lives
infinite amount of chances
just gotta take more
he told me that
before he passed
he said
you never know what is a bullseye
until you shoot.
10 pm
the first night
i stayed up hours after
playing it back in my head
on a projector
& my eyes the bulbs
every second
didnt want to forget
the smallest detail
an 11
today
you walked with a goddess.
did you tell her,
tell her, tell him
tell them.
born a sun
and we an idol worshipper-
tell em,
they can’t see themselves
the way we do.
for twelve
just living
a false dream
someone elses
somedays, it’s a cape
flying around
catching bad guys
other days, it’s a noose
holding me still
gasping for another way out;
someone else’s dream
like a torch bearer
we only run forward
13 blue birds
i paid
to be accepted
only to be denied
fair treatment.
singing among the treetops
cursed to walk the ground
your song only calls
the hell hounds.
Saint's Muse 