bad boy, i got a weakness
i like the taste of blood licked from my
own hands from being reckless
tearing hearts out their intended
cavities and im afraid my mouth
is cold from being exposed

i guess i keep the charade
of getting mad at you
for not buying me cigarettes
or not telling me to quit them depending
if im interested in you

i go to the gym to heal
all of my mistakes instead of church
and its cuffing season
want you to tie me to your mast

and leave me there all season
then afterwards we'll never text each
other again because you're a bad boy
and you are no good for me

don't let my feelings keep you
from the rest of your life
this forty and a lot of reasons
why i'm hiding away

when you wake, i'll be gone away
and you'll do what you like without me
i don't have any problems but honest to god
you got it, your walk, the hills, that wooden
cello you played a little when i was over

but i politely listened through it all
'cause i don't know enough about music
to know if it sounded good

faith
stitch
together
thy
soul
and
catapult
between
the
web of hope and peace

It’s raining birdsong.
Spring arrival, graceful Swifts,
Two-tailed brother’s breeze.