Relief

you can pretend until remnants are slipping off that sculpture
you will never get away with it alive
it will eat you or i will
boo bitch; my morals will haunt you until the day you die

and you pathetically tell yourself you protect her; while you let him use and abuse her when convenient for him
it’s “too painful” so your chin runs in the other direction
it might scar your “perfect” reputation you try to believe you uphold
prom queen; fucking phony

most people with half an eye see through your narcissistic charm
why do you think he ended up this way, sugar?
i’ll give you a 20 letter hint… it’s not the one you blame

you’re ice cold; well i’m hot as hell bitch
so feel my wrath
because it’s coming… man it’s coming

play with me; i triple dog dare you
you think you’re a lion
honey, i’m mixed; all three
pit bull, lion, bear
and i will devour every last bit of your facade after i slash you to scraps

you can pretend until remnants are slipping off that sculpture
you will never get away with it alive
it will eat you or i will
boo bitch; my morals will haunt you until the day you die

and i pray to the grass skies i can taste that drop of relief in the cool, black water
when it rains; you will feel me
you won’t forget me, but we will be long gone

Photo Cred

Red Monarchs

monarchs sleeping just below the shag carpeting
spurts of red emerge occasionally
wings outstretched like two blades
as we sit around on the memories fading

we were shaky; wanting to play it cool
there is nothing you could say to scare me
well there is one thing, you replied as we peered off the fourth story grated floor

just then, the fattest butterfly swished up from behind the baseboard
enamored by the sight; it provoked uninhibited exchanges
the carpet blows up and they all come flushing out

ribbons of red dust stream between us
so we latch on; walk them like a tightrope
no grip; it is effortless

i reach for the knobs; attempt to turn them down, but the flames already tower above us
every brass kettle and pot bubbling, immersed
bursting the cocoons open with our bare hands
you know i am scared of heights; but we dance on the catwalk anyway

Photo Cred