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"arcanine" poems
you're Woodside's Arcanine, and it took me five years and an hour to finally find you, and by the time I got to your door, my skull was already rolling off my shoulders, to catch every angle of your rakish design until my heart burst out from my neck. and I wish the cold shower did enough to quiet the fever and calm the bones, so I never missed every curveball I threw, and would be wise enough to tell when it's time to fold.
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Mar 23, 2017
Mar 23, 2017 at 1:04 AM UTC
I always wipe the blood off my heart with the hand I shake with.
Ashes fly like lonely artist within, like the fly breaking the wires Reelin' free air Sleeping right, instead, I'm dreaming of luck on the streets Steal your right, instead of fighting the urge to be frantic Turn your luck into snarky medicinal Holiday burning up in flames, laze dazed on a hunch Arcanine, fun being confused by the empty witnesses Abject humiliation helps scuttle the land Rehabilitating, titillating and shards scintillating the Tiber Mending ways, a thing of the indefinite freewill Unified terrorists looking at there curtains and the pails Praying for the mail to unfurl Sleepless like a shuttle, in an electrocuted chair in a four-by-four cell without the pills and supper Scuttle the land and the last meal ain't free, innit
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Aug 4, 2019
Aug 4, 2019 at 8:40 PM UTC
Reinstated And Living