a mini hyena, like
nine years of age, named Brainchild. months in hell, souls get raw, havens
implode. he kept her, five kids later, we imagine a drawer of prescriptions. I
glance over, I fret hostility, it hurts to love you. mother came, she cried, a
man tossed her over a banister—another socked her face.
I’m damn near
reaction, as opposed to action rules, no one wants deaths—hopping into a
Lamborghini, skating through Louisiana, so many rumors to our last names. I
passed a taxidermy I was eager, “Immortalize me!” a ghost slithering felt it
enter felt anxiety from a stranger; staring like omens looking
possessed I
wonder, hear me closely, if we aren’t intimate—why show me?
you get decent at
times you hate his guts at times so stressed like looking for intimacies. a
bled grip a numb bandana, at father searching for his orders. a lot older,
asking for clarity, I know a secret, most are living without absolutes—no
convictions soft-sentences in soul hating dreamchasers.
cedar floorboards
a hole near a furnace a kettle just sounded.
a cup of tea,
asking more questions, to understanding discomfort.
I was shocked to
see her, pure differences, I thought, up to that point, I’d seen each as
opportunity.
abhorred his guts,
serviced his ego, shot down his humility.
so attracted so
gifted like fuck your life.
arguments with
mirrors, it spoke back, haven hell alleys. a train rushing, a thought laughing,
a mother nudging. a thousand-dollar gin, a million-dollar cigar, so
exaggeratedly!
a knack for dying
a snap in his inwards like rushing to find you.
pleased to behave
unpleased to lose like it’s different around those valleys.
some will live
like kings and queens like irrelevance is relevant.
