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Aug 2016
i'm still a little
sweaty around
the eyes

in my undeveloped
frontal lobes

falling into an
abyss between my growling
stomach and the
sweat on my neck

into where
my eyelashes
are replaced by
blackened teeth

the neon chemical
fruit smell of
raspberry hair dye
and johnny cash
i never think anything
or maybe i do
i just chose to keep my
thoughts silent and
lie about them later

if i could wish for
one improvement
upon my wardrobe
i would wish for my
father to stop rattling
on about the way jeans
never used to come
pre-faded and how
work was the only way
you added holes to knees

just when i like the way
things are going when it
comes to my past is
just when i am forced
to relive everything
i ever hated

it's not
let me tell you something
it's not
i'm not repeating
it is
get it right.
Copyright 5/29/16 by B. E. McComb
b e mccomb
Written by
b e mccomb  22/F/finally home
(22/F/finally home)   
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