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
Tag: Trust
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
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
heavy loader
it is not a shocker
to see it all come down
crashing crashing crashing
into a wall
before
we toon out
hands and knees
they begged for change
and they got bills
suneater
they say he reached out and grabbed it
took a bite
and put it back
years before weeks
future tense
was your only sense
so you payed twice the cents;
the river in front of your feet
was too close
could only see
trout in the stretch-
bless these knees
for that jump will be incredible
to chance the ending
before the wicked pending
Saint's Muse 