The way your lips look after we've been kissing for too long.
No, no. The color of her favorite flannel.
No, the way angry cartoons look.

Let's talk about b l o o d.
                                  oozing, flowing, going...
Let's talk about roses. Shiny, sweet, beautiful.
                                     Their thorns invading my skin
                                     when they ***** *****
                                                                    picking the berries
                                                                    sweet juice, ooze your
                                                                    way onto my body,
                                                                    s t i c k y...
                                                                    stick me, stick a needle
                                                                    in me, it's supposed to help,
                                                      NOTHING is helping.

Tell me my heart is bright cranberries,
                                 an oozing scab;
                                 not a rose,
                                 not some kind of victory
                                 to be celebrated.

Yes, an oozing scab, festering with dirt and
dilemma and dead
                       and dead
                                      and
                                             d e a d.


**~~a.s.f.