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i am made of nights like these

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counting-vertebrae

Published: Jul 29, 2014

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Literature Text

ativan boy, you cannot empty out this skull -
not with a pen nor with a bullet. you can
be my hallowed head(case) for spitting out
words like teeth; oh, but i will only love you
when you're weary. i will keep crows caged
between your lungs like veins, like palpitations.
i will rot you through bones & car radios,
but i will never get (you) out of your skin.

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full title: i only love the mayhem, baby; i am made of nights like these

whoops, i went almost two weeks without writing and came back with this sub-par stuff. sorry.

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