Fly, little bird
find your peace
know you were loved
fighting against growing up
for years
together.

From "we love Satan"
to "Franken-Mamma"
to late night rides
and jumping medians at 2AM
facing head-on collisions
with life.

So fly, little bird
the time is now,
fly.

A halo
of blonde blacklight
Skin, stretching
A canvas
Luminous
The shadows
are wet

Beads of water
cling to the glass edge
I glide along.

I've been unaware
holding this head under water
driven in by tiny bones
ossuary of the lines on your
face.

He's been stirring
water pours off as he rises
attracted by brittle bones
sarcophagi of dreams
broken.

There is no greater clarity,
No greater freedom,
than a pistol barrel
in your mouth.

I purge sans binge
I ***** scars onto everyone around me.
My guilt: a summation.
Now, if I could only figure out why
I keep sticking fingers down my throat.

Oh amber, foam-ed memories,
cast about my brain.
The evening tide pulls me away,
sooner than later, I'm afraid.