a rush of adrenaline,
it's still without use.
i can't reach for medicine,
i can't help but lose.

"Avast," he spoke,
and fell to the ground.
Bullet through his back neck,
collapsed without a sound.

The song of the hero,
such a lovely thing.
So perfect and pristine—
ultimately nothing.

it starts with a voice

he
    cries
             out

a thousand hands grip my chest
and then

                she
       cries
out

i forgot
what it meant
to feel
complete.

i don't have an alarm, but i tell them it rings
because their alarms ring, and they like to announce it.
they wake up at six.

they think the same things,
they write the same words,
they tell them to me.

take
a cigarette
and smother it
in earth, let it witness
the ground.
cover
it up so it
is never
found.