a red dried pepper
and a wormy cherry
a decomposed dead body
looks just like them-but not you
I am gazing at your
diamond eyes and fire hands
behind a glass
the glass will turn to marble
and you will turn to ashes
and the grief will softly whisper me
the charms of lunacy
finally, the flames will die
and I will sell the two diamonds in my hands
for wisdom
no, dad, it's not you
whose skin is cracked, decayed and bruised
it could be a box of cherries
or a bag of peppers
god, I miss you.
May 9, 2018
May 9, 2018 at 9:27 AM UTC
a red dried pepper
and a wormy cherry
a decomposed dead body
looks just like them-but not you
I am gazing at your
diamond eyes and fire hands
behind a glass
the glass will turn to marble
and you will turn to ashes
and the grief will softly whisper me
the charms of lunacy
finally, the flames will die
and I will sell the two diamonds in my hands
for wisdom
no, dad, it's not you
whose skin is cracked, decayed and bruised
it could be a box of cherries
or a bag of peppers
god, I miss you.
