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rhys myers Aug 2014
she has freckles
way too many
bright red
like her knotted hair.
her name is ugly
something with a K.
she is ugly.
I hate the way she smells.

we listens to music.
she shakes her hair
off-beat
she sings off-key
and thinks I like it.
I tell her it’s interesting.
she says we share
something significant.
I hate her.
rhys myers Aug 2014
Please,
Can I have some more?
I'm not a *****

I'm a starving
broomstick with organs.
I've a headache
I need some medicine.
Please

Gimme some more.
I'll be a *****
Or

a starving
broomstick with organs
in need of some medicine.

~

I'm stuffed
with a mouthful of dirt
and stomach of worms.

I feel good.
My brain is gone
and the sun has bleached
my bones.
rhys myers Aug 2014
Come Queen!
my hand is inviting.
A smooth ride can quickly turn violent.

Bring your brothers!
parasites
perfect for copulation.
rhys myers Aug 2014
I haven’t been up by the pool in a year
and I’ve never been this close.
Never felt like jumping the fence
but the lock was cut.
More than half the graffiti is gone now.
A ****** cover-up job;
You can still see it all.

I’m dangling my legs in the deep end.
Just like that movie,
the one with the lord
joker.
The knight,
gay cowboy.

The bush on the hill rustles;
must be a rodent.
Maybe a skunk or possum.

******* almost got me yesterday
when i parked below the pool.
rhys myers Aug 2014
He’s awake and can see
and must be thirsty with all that coughing.
He will want water
and a ham and cheese.

How will she go about it?
Stealthily and in secret,
remaining a confidant
while breaking thermometers into his drink
and slipping spiders into his bed.

He will swallow all of them
and the eggs.
rhys myers Aug 2014
i wish i could find my brother
he would love the way this light
is cutting through the thoroughfare.
such a sense of foreboding

but this could be Sandy’s doing,
if anything, it’s a red herring.
maybe i’m rushing to judgement.
it could be a McGuffin

either way
it will end how it always does.
the antithesis of every scenario running through my-*******-head at a mile a minute.

the King of the ******.
hers.
rarely mine.

it might be time to put the drink down.
rhys myers Aug 2014
He tries to straighten himself
but his shoulders still look slumped, just slightly.
It might be the shadows, though.
I mean, look how long his arm is.

He has a weighted look to him obviously
but more in the eyes than the body.
Maybe its a trick of the light.
I mean, look how bright his teeth are.

He walks away, shoulders ever-so-slightly slumped.
His chin is bare and
his hand is at his side,
waiting to be balled.

— The End —