Sam and A.G. on SD. I’m reading this like, “Holy. Balls.” This piece drips attitude, and I love it!
Heathers and jocks, flock together
You and I tethered to Glocks & black
Clocks broken, shot
into a myopic future
We meditate on bloodlust
of a murdered adolescent reverie,
besotted with living forever
The colour of Mondays changed
when I tasted the insidious guile on
your lips; glossed in Carrie-red
you needn’t incentivize this perilous
heart of mine
for you I would cut off my misanthropic
and illuminate the dark matter
’cause all that I bleed
coiling in a house where hymns burn
damp or dirt, or fire walk with me.
daddy is a watershed in dallas, mommy
is a wire hanger bent out of shape.
the world is an open wound,
and i am the trace.
you are the knife and the wail.
the wide awake.
the boulevards red myths, sight and
names in squirming lights, and seeds
on the flashing ground.
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