Get it

Skin soaked soldiers
On the bravery march
Fire put done
Get it

Time to invade yourself
Find you’re not welcome
Spirits on parade
Get it

type written inspirations
spit out forth and back
into the sky

i close my eyes around a key
jagged metal cuts through the lid
and i can’t hold you up
but refuse to let you
down

tie me up and break me

i’m waiting

i’m the last page
of a small book.
i’m the final note
in a short song.
i’m waiting for them to take me
and they make me wait so long.

i’m the last scene
in a commercial.
i’m the last breath
of a fly.
i’m waiting for you to hate me
or to let me feel up your thigh.

i’m the last picture
on a disposable camera.
i’m the last sip
of a thimble’s drink.
i’m waiting for you to save me
or to just let me sink.

addressing old wounds

i’m not going anywhere
you, concrete
put me here

i’m writing a letter
addressing old
wounds

left open to breathe
let me bleed
let me breathe
let me

i’m as cold as a weak metaphor
cream echoes
against my skull