Kate could
notice
that I
needed
a treat
so
she drove
off
and bought
me
a cinnamon
roll;
it tasted
sweet.

pour me into a silicone mold
ill be your bunny, kitty, zero, i'll fold
time is ticking slit my wrists to bruise the conscious of your fists
dancing in despair contorts the walls of this claustro structure
feet cant touch the ground but if i hallucinate it i'll feel better
touch me like i'm made of plastic but feel me like i'm gold
drip my essence around your temples perfume in your temporal lobe
bleed me in and bleed me out or don't breath when i'm around
to feel my presence makes you sweat and drown in your own fleshy water

money
slices from silently screaming sycamores
caressing children to corroding carcasses crying out
blatantly bleeding by your blade
intention isn't intuitive in industry
businessman burned bushes bellowing
sororities supporting sickly stripping of sap

in the back sat a guy with long hair,
and if you look at him he'd glare.
but if you sit down,
and upend his frown,
you'll find he's not much of a scare.

Your skin,
is the color of a rusty gate
your teeth,
collapse like the colliseusm
your arms,
flap gracefully like an albatross
and your eyes,
remain a mausoleum.

(EVIDENCE: Prior to her arrest, this romantic Valentine's Day card was found next to the bullet riddled body of Mrs. Hubbert's husband)