Despite the absence of presence,
I still have knowledge of existence
which will continue to haunt
my dreams---
          Re-runs of memories,
                    moments of nostalgia.

They'll tell that you deserve better
and that they'll treat you right,
but this only makes it hurt more
when you find out they lied.

I won't come crawling back,
my knees are ***** enough as it is

Stained glass coffins
Crystalline mosquitoes
Death that masquerades
In silken flags and floras
Languorous beauties
Graffiti of red and violet light
Sirens kiss the bullets
As they scatter them
To burn holes in sepia dreams
Watercolor ghosts
Casting out wildflower candy
Attics that hide under
Strawberry dust and lemons
That melts into mildew
As they pass down the gullet
Layers of ashes in the belly
“But you told us to swallow!”
Masses of children howl
The pretty ghouls hiss back
“Cannot you tell a lie by now,
By the sweetness of its taste?”