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Sep 2018
Tin’s in the shed
So is Auntie who drinks too much.
I often wonder, who’ll go first—
Mary Jane or the boy next door.

The sky was shedding tears yesterday,
Who died? Or rather, who didn’t?
Music rhythm swaying kids in the clubs
And overdoses treated as criminal thefts

There’s a crab cake on the table,
Don’t know what it’s for anymore.
No one’s left to eat, no one’s left to eat
And I’m stuck in utter agravity.

These lungs we share, saturated with
Drugs trying to revive,
And drugs trying to pitch overboard
I wanna just lay down and

Forget the stars
Forget the moon
Forget the seven billion souls

Cursed pits under eyes of
Grey scaled photos to hide
Paintings of blacked blue
Look, there’s God standing over all

Saying nothing, saying nothing.
See any miracle? huh, neither do I
Cause I’m not sure whether direct opposition or
Indirect consultation ever shaves away Alex’s eyebrows.

There isn’t an ounce of bread left
To feed those seven billion souls, isn’t that
Right? Cause waste from hearth is worth
Less than their left pinky.

**** tired of this mess
We livin’ in a cupboard, in
A kitchen full of paper thumbs and
Punctured eyes.
Written by
Rowan  21/Trans Male/United States
(21/Trans Male/United States)   
  265
     af and vb
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