I peel away scabs soon as they form Watching the blood bead and fall Pouring over the letters I still can’t make them out Of course this is about me Of course I don’t run his show And fuck you for saying so Aren’t you tired of lashing out Stings and burns Blisters and scars […]
I feel them looking and not seeing spotting my form spotting my child spotting the missing ring missing the band on my right they don’t know what it means and their judging burns holes through me and I want to scream you don’t know me and I think to myself why do I care
If this wandering takes 40 years I will wake up and old maid which way is out of this desert where my skin burns my belly aches sun-sick too willful for sunscreen
Libido pins me to the floor cool down you’d think it be easy in weather like this yet the son burns Red desire ignites proof of or confused with Freud’s Conatus hidden things are toyed with things once lost are found voice, where are you? am I nearing a dead end? creativity flows and I wonder
clarity I will always be true to Red I trust in the visceral steady that holds and Red can burn but it is what it is and things are as they are no matter of wishing will change while change is inevitable … I’m not done here
Your silence inside me resounds shattering every part. Each shard is set to burning, smoldering through my nights. Tears provide a cool salve, they are only temporary.
the shape of muscle haunts me in a dream skinnier skinnier it fades to smoke sleepy eyes wake to constant ticking 2:00 a.m. 2:00 a.m. the numbers burn into retina