Suck it Up.

Thin hairline fractures, that lay submerged in anger; long enough that they swelled into gaping holes. To go over them, would be like navigating the latitude, and the longitute and the gravity and the declination of something already dead. Our past lay dissected on an autopsy table. The rib cage of what was exposed for … More Suck it Up.

Death Moth

My pistol is holstered, my knives tucked away. My neck exposed. My fists unwrapped; my mind hidden behind niceties and tea and cake. You have hidden your weapons. Your tongue speaks lies, and your eyes speak truth. You wage war just by being here.  

Dead Meat

In rage, I imagine the suffocation of a bull, in clear plastic. Layers, and layers of clear plastic. It can fight. It can call. But it’s strength will be it’s death. It will die. It’s how I feel, and the image I rewind and pause like an old movie, when I feel this way. Pounding … More Dead Meat