We were stuck in a downpour on Locust

Shadowed with good intentions 

Your vices smothered your virtue

They exist on the coastline of your mind
Follow the glow of the neon signs
Turn right when you feel your chest convulse  

Born cursed with impulse

Sanity leaks from the ceiling in your mind

Your gleaming with dishonesty

You curated needle graffiti on my walls
You disappeared liked clockwork

Down every shoddy alley

To fill your lungs with manic choas

Just another suburban stray 

With calico bruises
Trying to find the glamour in its grip




-kellie scranton