Tag Archives: box

The Toy Soldier

membranes screaming

with quaint distaste

zeppelins weighing on

the bottom of my palate

ennui is injected like

hard heroin, but down

instead of rush high

amusement of a chronic

detachment, falsettos

left to simply, slowly die

rivers of silver, i’ll sink

in pouring liquor and rain

as my thoughts keep

reverting to primal disdain

another day of feeling

nothing, and walking on

harsh gravel and cold rocks

and this life’s about as

exciting as an empty

wooden toy box.

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A Box of Sharp Things

Please do not

Notice the fresh

Scars on my skin

It’s nothing—

My clumsy hands

Just slipped on a

Box of sharp things

Yet again…

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