Crying in the woodland sprawl,
there’s no time for me
to watch you die Mom-Maw.
Your frame so small, your skeletal jaw,
It was easier to get drunk instead,
Face mortality, face death,
give up on my illusion of childhood.
While you sold the air your last breath.
I remember standing at your grave
and why I chose to hideaway.
Face my end, with college ahead.
I miss you now, but couldn’t face you then.
What love do we concede, when another soul is set free?
The indifferent black mass spreading through your bones relentlessly.
I know you’re in a better place,
a place where you can’t see us grieve.
This growing pain, the birth of the unkown,
this granite stone, in the freshly dug earth
next to your husband who died so long ago.
You can finally be together Mom-Maw.
Your flesh was delicious.
I have no more time to reminisce.
You’re gone now,
and I’ve been running for days because they never stop chasing me- no need for open caskets.
No need for graves or wakes– Just Run…
Fail me once again, I can take it.
My legs will travel a few more miles. And I will survive
Force of will, or maybe just the will to live.
Feet ache and my mind already left;
the drop off point, helicopter never came, and the memory of you won’t go away.
Somewhere a boy in a field wonders where his parents went.
And why his best friend hunts him down- blood jettison in a mouth that shared Cheetos and juice boxes
I’m so paranoid that I’ll get bit and have to live each day like this
Wandering the town for people I once knew.
Now they just look like food.
Maybe when the dead came alive you thought you’d fit in
You saw more fall to the earth- but they can’t unhinge
the lost, the broken, falling skies – the news already broke.
Along with all hope.
Reality falters, when the stumbling creeps drift from street to street
and backyards where barbecues once smelled of charred meat.
Now streets caked with rotted flesh- everyone’s eyes hollowed out and no time for vanity
The butcher shop is all around you
Instill me with safety
The world doesn’t look the same to me
The stretch of time that paralyzes each one of us to be walking and not running in fear
Fuck the world around you where you felt safe
Deep into the splintered void- where the days of our youth were made.
Our unfamiliar waves cast shades of rain,
now depraved- with no more or less from what was saved.
Floundering under frosted skies,
fleshed into salt from tired eyes.
Peered out into the open road and then threw out everything I owned.
It’s just not easy to talk to you- to look at you, and to only think of two
once the world falls away. What happens when you leave?
The novelty wore off, somehow we made it through the night anyway.
…and numbered days;
Tears blur through these eyes- perennially on the receiving end.
Slipping past the conscious mind
the remains of a conscience friend.
This hurts you more than me… but I have stared down this mirror before.
Suppose the sheen outlasted you.
What love can do.
But it steals the night too.
The morning leaves more uprooted, coffee grounds and drool,
wiped away with only bloodshot eyes to attend to.
Enough to make a difference when I stroked my hair- brittle and falling to the floor.
How pretty I must look in my old age…
It used to be different, staring out the window somewhere around 6th period Chemistry.
What became of me?
The fantasies created aren’t guaranteed.
The phosphor mild under the fluorescence and arid smell stimulating my need to flee.