The Tragic Death of My Quail:
Hey...
carrying the knife in my trembling hands.
wondering where to jab it in between my glands...
One hand in his, the other waving
hello to the single-mother neighbor smoking...
Hey,
I just came by to check in on you...
Eighty eight keys, a sea of black and white,
A Masterpiece in the works he must needs get it...
I stepped outside for the first time tonight,
waiting until the world got a little darker...
It seems
possible that I...
They were cooking,
for their parents and children...
Let me guess.
Tonight, you're scrolling through...
everyone thinks that I'm all better
that I'm all healed up now...
Darkness ascends once again
You were the beacon of my life...
Warning: This isn't a poem,
just a really lengthy piece of word vomit...