She saw the sunken ground,
Beneath the flower bed.
Bleeding on the grass,
Emerged her golden head.

He came onto the casket,
Traced the waves of her skin.
Saw curls lurking,
As he rubbed the lipstick in.

Even in death
What soul could truly rest?

Is she forgetting,
he’s just a man.
For if he is the Divine God,
Your soul’s forsaken.

“…and i could write
i could write so good and well

scary ghost stories

and the voices that made you yell

whispers in the scary dark
makes you wanna scream

fogginess in the park
a nightmare-ish dream”

In a few years,
we’ll all turn cold.

A chill down your back,

the breeze grows old.

And there’s a light,
that freezes the storm.

That rounds the voices

end up warm.

Blanket of comfort,
a soft green bed.

Below the frost,

lay down your head.

you saw the earth hidden beneath
hidden with

the fallen leaves

so wrap my body
with
pink ribbons

as i say sorry
for polluting the soil

i was born in

before the sun explodes
on the sky line
can you
look in my eyes,

and tell me
your middle name.

and before the stars collapse
in the prairies
can you
dance with me,

give me
some peace of mind.

I bite.
Not with teeth.
with silence,
with sharp glances,
with walls built higher than your reach.

I’m not cruel.
I’m just tired
of being kind first
and torn apart second.

You call it attitude.
I call it armor.
Because being soft
never saved me.
It only made the fall hurt more.

So I speak less now.
Agree less.
Trust less.
I pull away before someone has the chance
to walk out first.

It’s not that I don’t want love.
I’ve learned that even “I care about you”
can come with conditions.
Even soft hands
can leave bruises
you can’t see.

I bite
because once,
I didn’t.
And it nearly broke me.