post a comment | posted Aug 28
And there weren't anymore forests to walk through
As we stumbled and strolled down
Concrete and asphalt
Sidewalks and roadways
In apartments and houses we gazed
At brilliant foliage of dirty clothes
Staunch rock faces of cinder block walls
...
post a comment | posted May 22
There's fire here. Climbs the pine trees.
Wilts the grass. Fells timbers.
Turning the soft sand hard, brittle glass.
There's fire forcing the creatures into dirt holes
With enemies, lovers, and family members.
Fire crouching at the foot of my bed.
Burns toes while I sleep, singes my socks.
Need a clear path to the door but there's fire
Seeping, creeping into the dirty clothes on my floor.
There's smoke here, stains my favorite shirt.
Can't smell it always, smoke's too high up.
Not rain clouds, smoke clouds, storm clouds
Drop flooding fire that can't extinguish,
Can't clean the stains from my shirt.
Only drown the creatures in holes in the dirt.
There's fire that follows me to the bathroom.
Burns when I piss. Turns my yellow teeth black.
And waits in my bed, under the sheets.
Burns when I come. Stains where I sleep.
post a comment | posted May 22
There's fire that follows me to the bathroom.
Burns when I piss. Turns my yellow teeth black.
And waits in my bed, under the sheets.
Burns when I come. Stains where I sleep.
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