Why her I ask, my bestfriend gone.
Why her I ask, life not so long.
Why her I ask, no where to turn.
Why her I ask, repeating curse.
Why her I ask, she’s in a hearse.
Why her I ask, she was the first.
Why her I ask,
Why her
Why

A man enters a flower shop
and decides on some flowers
the florist wraps them up
as the man puts his hand into his pocket
to find the money,
the money to pay for the flowers
but at the same time
suddenly
he places a hand over his heart
and falls

As he falls
the money rolls around on the floor
and the flowers fall
with the man
with the money
and the florist stands there
as the money rolls
as the flowers ruin
as the man dies
it's obviously all very sad
and she really should do something
this florist
but she doesn't know how to go about it
she doesn't know
where to start

There are so many things to do
for this dying man
these ruining flowers
and this money
this rolling money
that won't stop.

i dread the cold,

and as i write the words

the fear deepens



fear the ground

will slip

and the bones

will

ache as i walk

the frozen.



fear of falling,

breaking,

and losing

the soft words

of my life