my mind and beef-jerky-fied little heart has won


the marathon again, twisting with every salted wound


I lost my best friends over 2 years ago now
lost and lying on beaches like the softly sanded glass
coming in the drowing, faces rinsed in rouged blood
from the sounds of the screams, deadened like balsa
wood and lost in the blades


my sun shines red sometimes when my heart is fullest
sponged like the walls in my living room
my deadest moments are awoken with the sounds of the grey wash
smothering me down into the clammoring sea


my breath takes me home to the mountain smells
each blade shining sweet like life under the dead layers
if you try to bandage me
my blood will seep straight through
straight fucking through