Should I wash my hands?
I’ve already tainted this shirt
and the sides of my pants.
My love is a blank expressionCarried in monotone silence -The fire of tender gesturesHushed by a long winter.
The crinkle of Autumn’s slumberGave limitation to Summer and Spring,Their infinite blossom…
I’ve never actually seensomeone shoot up heroinin person before,before today.Slumped against the entranceto some public transportationas people skirt byas they may.Where does the line stopwhen you stop to helpfrom when you walk bylike absolutely nothing is wrong?I’m sorry love.This life was not meantto screw you overand yet somehowit…
Needful things unmeetable An earthen grave of the past, full of fertile soilTilled and buried prematureDemons cling to the dirtA feral oil leaking through the loam’s liceA primordial wilderness, transcendent beyond kings and queensAnd fate’s providence in the grasp of kingdoms,Loiters hungry…
No, really — like gut-wrenching withdrawals
are hitting me soonI think I’m addicted to you.
Because around you, there’s this hue.Black. Then green, then violet, then blue.and at the center of red,
Take a rib from the moment toAdorn my schema of lifeBigger, it grows, the more bonesGrotesque, more, but here we are, it’s my visionA sidewalk vein of life, one song in its refrainNonetheless some chalk of truth bellowing in the cacophonyOne more canvas cadence stuffed down the throat of a moth man…
There is a cloud of smoke, the shape of a man,
That walks the empty halls of our old house.
It is my father, looking for me.
Straining to catch the scent of my lungs
I am stuck in a box.
I am not a mime…I refuse to talk from time to time
I am stuck in this box.
I know, one day I will get out,but that’s not what this is about.
A slight smile pulls at Joy’s unwilling lips as she daydreams. Not of wedding dresses, rom com meet cutes, or Oscar speeches, but of fist fights, bar brawls, and cussing shouting matches with disgusting, middle-aged white men. Instead of hopes of softly caressing the cheek of a newfound love, her…