Remains

They wrote their love on trees
A love to last beyond themselves
Blurring the boundaries
Between yesterday night
Hands within hands
With diamonds on fingers
An avalanche of aftermaths
Falling like leaves in autumn time
A run in the woods
An uncovering of words
Slipped on landslides
A deer frozen
In the lights
Freezing all these stories
Into snowflakes, intertwining
And the tree still remains.

The road through

We’ve all got strings
Being played
How did I know
It would end this way?
Bust a lip with black eyes
Broken nose
Packs of ice
Resting on my bones
Till another fight

When will my strings
Be played right
Trying not to be a victim
But I’m feeling dark tonight
One drink for the road
This road I’m on
Mustn’t lose my grip
On the wheel, heading through
A town I know will never heal

How monsters are made

I will not bow down to your conformity
Moulding me so I’ll express
What you want me to feel
Turning to me next
To say I’m just repressed
But you didn’t read what I expressed
Because it didn’t fit into what you expect
Rolling your eyes in disgust
Pretending to be perplexed
By the way I’m spewing my guts
An undressing if you will
In which you turn away
Until I fit into your cage
While you converse and ask
”How are monsters made?”

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