A friend of mine told me I write when I’m sad She said it is as if I am in pain And I said when I write it rains When I put the pen on paper the clouds get dark And when I stop The birds of the sky sings Coming out to play as the sun is out
At the end of the day, I just need something, Anything, Inside of me, To fill the voids, If it comes in clear baggies, Or leather jackets, It matters not, If it just stays for a while.
Sky running past orange bobber, hair full of scales Moon beheading the queen of cicadas and nails Heart hardening like concrete, eyes blistering salt Naturally finding fault, cut clean to the bone Lighting all the candles in our little sinking home Fish making processions, I'll never be alone