The CrawlOn my brightest day, there is still dust pouring throughMore Like This
And on my darkest slate, I convulse and wither like European economy
Huddled on a sheet of moss.
I wish to embody such a bodacious thought.
It hits the ground like hail.
I catch a glint of your lashes around the bonfire.
Both your pupils glow like sonar.
People surround me, it's damp.
Everyone leaves, I feel outnumbered.
Just as I arise to a knee,
something claws my mouth, my eyes.
My own hands craft a weapon with the intent to gouge.
The intent to disfigure.
It's like a Grizzly on methamphetamine,
proding and dehinging its own jaw for a bite to eat.
Swing again, girl.
There's still that hole in my side.
For you to slide in your sword of choice.
Swing and a miss, strike ME.
Danielle IIIDespair.More Like This
Half a quart of rye asleep in my body.
I'm finished with her, she's a write off.
A stop-sign proves to me its inconvenience for the last time.
My right foot feels heavy on the accelerator.
Throttle opens wide like a mothers arms to her vanished child
I wake up to the sound of rushing water.
Everything is green, blue, emitting life.
I'm horizontal with the creek.
There's blood on the airbag.
My windshield has taken a beating, so has my chest.
I can see pebbles on my carpet, and notice the lacerations in my pelvis.
I'm shirtless and fed up with how the sun keeps staring at me.
Bent metal, bent bones.
I can still feel her body leaning on me,
one of her faint breaths numbing my right shoulder.
Dribbles of alcohol sticking to my briefs.
Then she left.
I lost her in the crowd.
I lay down against the soothing grass.
I wake to stainless cuffs pulling me to my feet.
"Where were you headed, son?"
Who is this guy?
A faint recollection of my jaw snapping on my