shape shifted.

 

 

lives burn in a tangle your wreck

your angle is changing my stories

caught in me is throat harder days

a gruesome proving stone cradle

shapes shift lean a crusted shoe

look at the ground under my life

a breaking scheme tolerance slow

silver bruise my face is process

a grey leveled death blow incision

i change with the mirror’s matter

loose a corpuscle red scathing

these cracks are the real doubt

chew a rapid pancake miracle here

wither the less of a making up

none come up in the middle ton

a back room deal sour from sex

time howling from thinning lips

seeking the moan of my ribs

your skating across this ice

devils hold many reminders late

twists to kill the sweet taste

you scream in the ears of a boy

sorrows in picked up demands

i float on a salted fickle thought

to die is the blackest of flight.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s