#idontknowwherethiscamefrom
From so far away
the fairground music fades
the carney's call echoes.
Were you sure you wanted to pay those pennies
for that stick of horehound candy?
String a song of sixpences together
And **** at them until they turn your mouth blood red
To hide your broken lips.
In the double wide that gapes into the evening
With its yawning broken windows.
The dingy feeling in your eyes
Refuses to fade with the dust
And the touch of sticky plastic stars on your bedroom ceiling
Keeps you company
In the bitter watches of the night
Jesus and John watch your father from the living room wall,
As the last flickers of a camel’s Pentecost flame
Are extinguished on your arm.
Branded, you lie stained in sin
Your child eyes asking St. Peter
Why the gate is shut.
He breaks bread across the table
With your bones crushed to a fine flour,
Mixed with wine.
This is my body.
This is my blood.
May 11, 2018
May 11, 2018 at 7:19 PM UTC
I almost saw the stars,
Jupiter, Venus and Mars.
But you stole my wings from me,
And replaced them with a cheep plastic mockery.
I ran away tonight,
Ran from the dull city lights.
I ran away in the rain,
hoping it would wash away my pain.
But the dark was lonely,
It didn't consume me.
Maybe I'll have better luck next time,
Maybe I'll come up with a better rhyme.
Feb 17, 2016
Feb 17, 2016 at 10:03 PM UTC