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Aug 2010
This morning I remembered the harsh edges of my dream.
There were checkered flannels, red t-shirts,
and some kind of clock just ticking.
All of my shirts had holes,
just between the shoulder blades.
As if I'd finally grown my wings.

You pushed me down the stairs,
I remember the sound of my bones,
cracking as I hit each step.
Snap, crackle, pop,
like a meat sack full of rice crispy treats.

The feeling of blood dripping between my eyes,
down my neck, between my *******.
Seeing my bones exposed so easily.
Leaving me below, staring up at you.
(c) KC Hoye 2010 cargohold.blogspot.com
Written by
KC Hoye
668
   Karissa Olson
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