by Prophecies In Kodak   Jan 18, 2016

Money on the concrete, soul inside the sheets. Backbone 'round the corner, tongue inside my cheek. A penny for your values, a lick of clementine. A cherry you have offered, a test of Father Time. My eyes are drooping westward, my lips are wet in spite. I carry your misfortune, like a guest inside your strife. Your costs upon my chest, my pockets inside out. Screaming towards the wayward, circumcise my doubt.

My hair has been receding since the day you said my name. I've blocked your blessing precense, I've tied you to your grave. Your pieces start to wither, while I'm pressed against your back. You taunt me like a jackal, as I howl towards the mass. Slipping down your throat, the poison you once lacked. You will shiver, you will convulse: yet I promise not from that. Losing all your posture like a child on a swing. I will leave you in the morning as the blue birds start to sing.

My hands against your throat, running down the dotted lines. Connect them like a crossword, tongue answering each rhyme. Quivers in the distance, your bed as cold as ice. Remembering each day dream as you call my name at night. I can't forget your beckon as you stutter out my name. Fondling your bruises as we lose this tired game. Understand that you are golden, my silvers not your taste. So I lick your salted wounds now, spit the sulfur in your face.

You can't keep playing hit or miss and expect me not to bite. My teeth will spoil all you know, your width can't match my might. Let it boil down to the one thing we know best: you'd rather sell yourself short than give what's in your chest. So I'll fight these twisted battles in hopes you'll become clean. Bury my best memories as you are choking on your knees. Hold you like a child as you sob against my lap. Your backbones 'round the corner, and each day I love you last.


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Latest Comments

  • 4 years ago

    by donk2ymouth

    You know how I feel about this one, already.

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