I think divorce papers taste like the ash of a ciggratte falling from his lips when he told her the news.

Like whiskey burning firey hot as it slides down the back of your throat,

with bitter sweet tears pooling in with umami ink, the saltiness hitting the tongue like the papers to the floor, a weeping widow who does not suffer from a death but an absence.

I think divorce papers cut up throats like the edge of a chip, swallowing the news over and over again does not seem to make it go down any easier.

I think divorce papers digest like a cheap meal, the kind that you know will give you trouble, but also know is better for you in the end.

For late night adventures in woods
and abandoned buildings.

For strangers that sneak glances at you
between bookshelves and street corners,
and always manage to disappear when you no longer need them.

For candlewax and the flame that flickers.
For the light of the moon on paths untamed.
And for the snowfall that covers my tracks.

There is so much beauty in the wonder that you bring.

She was born in the back alleys of bones
left as scrap thrown to the dogs
by men who chewed her raw
and picked their teeth
with the edge of her.

When sprouts formed,
and skin and flesh blanketed her existence,
and blood dripped into her veins
from body bags in dumpsters:
she began to grow anger,
and brain,
and heart,
and eyes,
and fists.

So she may see the men her tossed her,
and attain her vengeance.

I sit at the edge of the world,
as water falls from the ocean
into the abyss that is the sky
and floats past the stars.

Where I cling to handfuls of dirt
and grass, and the rocks that cling too,
so I do not fly up
and drown in the universe above
and below me.

She stood at the edge of a deep rock
leashed to the side of the sea
with foam biting at her feet
and waves barking at her.

She breathes a salt stenched air
and watches its jaws open
only to see a sailor
rotting between its teeth.

She swallows air whole,
call it courage or stupidity
but she takes a step towards it.

Now the hound named
"Sea"
became full
once more.

I rattle like
air dried bones
on winds unknown.

I wanna run away
but I have
no place to go
because
home is the place
I'm running
away from.