when death’s cold hand takes me down and flesh and bone lay underground will my soul just cease to be with all its precious memory or will it fly on golden wing to places where bright angels sing or lost ones moan and demons weep and wail in vain in fiery deep does […]


after you left there was nothing, all of it scraped out, the torso hollowed, the heart the lungs the liver, gone the eyes plucked, the tongue removed, the rest just empty, sprawled dead drunk across sheets that still smelled of you, of your hair, of the taste of everything you were and I wondered how […]


we was them what was discarded, you ‘n’ me, what was pulled out the garden lest we grew among more respectable blooms and spoiled the papa’s view we was what was wasted, cursed like the match that burned his fingers ‘n’ tossed to the wind like something used up good for nothin’ he said “ain’t […]
