Cassandra

I drew pictures of me and you
You let me sit in your chair
Our wheels wreaking havoc on the pavement
You always made the strangest things with dough
That I never understood.
But your apple was bruised
It wouldn’t heal
No matter how many times
You washed or refrigerated it
Your apple must be eaten
Or the bruise will spread
Rotting the core
Until it’s thrown away
That’s what the produce guy said.

Play on Lights

Farewell You

This Land is Your Land

Dust falls through my twisted fingers
Ground up gravel
Tenderized by steel boots of creatures
A house lied here
In this house was a child mother and a father
Flies blood and rubble is all that’s left.
Down the road used to be a church
It took them a year to build
Swiftness cowering in the night
Now wax from candles only remain.

Sonnet perhaps? Yes.

What a Sight to See

The whore is only beautiful from far away
Dust from rusted cars lie beneath her nails
They watch the sun bleed at the water’s edge
Birds breaking their wings on the horizon
Dead trees still stand like their hollow promise
The old stars paint like children with splatters
Across roads churned by marches and black hooves
Forests suffocated like fish by air
Bubbles of smoke appear from his dark glass
Why does the striking hawk fall for the rat?
Birds look upon them with spiteful disgust
The crusted creature brings only disease
Feathers slick, jagged eyes this is the Hawk
The rat squeezes his stained claws as they talk.

Paper Blood

glass sprouts underneath
my swelling skin
and paper roots reach like bony fingers

I am chopped down
by children swinging their scissors
rusted with blood
from the paper they have sliced

but the children are just children
running through melting puddles
giggling of secrets

and as if they thought I would mind
being chopped by stained scissors
in meaty fists
too small to control shimmering blades
too small to hold me

I grow upwards
in hope for a kiss
that will turn me to glass
because she desires glass
more than paper

In this contains...

Friends...Family...people who I don't even know-

I give these to you:

My poems
Photos
and any findings I wish to share.