the taste of blood on christmas morning

 

there’s a joy

in her laughter

 

a sense of danger

with the stare

 

it’s the taste of blood

on christmas morning

 

lost in the neon haze

of an old string of

lights and another

glass of something

strong

 

two old souls passing

like ships in the night

 

you meet some people

in your life and just

know if this or that

would have happened…

 

you wouldn’t be the

miserable fading fuck

lost in this terrible

world

 

although, world peace

as your wish for

christmas is something

you should know by

now is a myth reserved

for children

 

no adult should even

think such a thing is

possible

———————————————————————

the new kitchen floor

 

i can remember

fucking you on

the new kitchen

floor

 

i made you

breakfast in

that kitchen

the next

morning

 

a week later

you decided

you were better

off as just a

friend

 

i offered her

the bed but she

had to have it

right there

 

and the floor

wasn’t dirty

either

 

let’s just say

anytime i see a

white linoleum

floor i get slightly

disgusted

————————————————————-

a loaded shotgun

 

these are the mornings

where i imagine myself

on my grandmother’s

bathroom floor

 

and instead of my

cousin’s nipple in

my mouth, it’s a

loaded shotgun

 

and then i imagine

just how much easier

life would have been

if that was my fucking

truth

 

i never lived all these

years expecting anyone

to understand my pain

 

i just wanted someone

to tell me it was going

to be okay

 

no one could understand

that either

 

all these hard truths

forced down my throat

like i was an unwilling

participant in life

 

no one could wrap their

heads around the fact

that my taste for pain

is an infinite shield

that only i can control

 

and as soon as i fully

believe that lie

i’ll truly be immortal

 

a nightmare to all

and the envy of none