Perhaps not love – at least akin,
this shatterbelt of sheets and limbs.
Our hearts break for the smallest things,

but if we're just two burning bees
in a forest full of cardboard trees,
I wish for drought, dry leaves, a breeze.

Sometimes I think
That life is a pear
And I sit on the stem
With my speckled skin bare

Sometimes I think
that life bruises too fast,
How it's softened by things
That have already past

Sometimes I believe
I can quiet white noise
And muffle the clutter
That swallows up joys

Sometimes I pretend
That I'm going to die
That the airplane I'm in
Drops out of the sky

Sometimes I think of
Emergency lights,
How when all else goes out
Then the exit's still bright

            And sometimes I think
            Of my thin cotton shift
            Of the noise that it makes
            When I lean for a kiss.

Dreaming of a bullet taking up resident in my brain
Not out of desperation
Simple curiosity leading me on
A wondering force pushing me towards an end
For the simple craving of knowing

Strung up on adderall
****** out to normality
led on by conformity
Their path filled in with chaff
Rigged to persuade
Monotony fills their days
Pushed down in worthless ways
fed on a lethal dose of caustic fluorescent

You’re a dangerous child
With your dark eyes
And silly dreams
Drinking tea with poison lips
And buzzing bees with deadly fingertips

You’re a lovely teen
With manipulative ways
And martyr friends
Doing your deeds to delicious ends
Laughing at the boys in their lovesick craze

You’re a trophy wife
With outrageous claims
And lying ways
Drinking your tea with poison lips
And doing your deeds to delicious ends

mashed a ****'n 'n my shirt
had t' sew 'n an'ther 'ne
mashed a ****'n 'n my keyb'ard
n'w I'm a v'wel sh'rt