Just Three Words
Your dreams are racing and swirling, curling
Blotted out to a scrap of cloth
These camel-skin clothes are
speaking, shrieking ripped into a grasshopper;
as that girl laughs and jokes.
I'm dead, festering, drenched in paint
Clothing your identity.
No see here. I ain't no dictionary
no shrouded joint or fluffed up point.
Your sarcasm tastes of honey – sweet,
succulent, poisoning your insecurities.
No… I won't get into this
yet. Stop, rewind, think back in time.
I needed help as I stabbed through
that rotten fruit. Spat out the seeds
People make me retch.
What were you doing? Jumping
the grounds, scouring the blood.
Feasting on the sight of my tribulation.
This then turned to indifference. She
smiled and nodded, talked to the rest;
forgot me occasionally, most of the
time couldn't care less. The years
became like throwing stones, causing ripples in
the sea. My voice set building blocks
She threw out the ropes; the dust
finally settled. Friendship, yes it's a
bittersweet beast. They'd rather just
stick here and wallow till it's deceased.
But women piss me off, I'm telling
you, majorly. Prince Charming was fine
till she got bored; set out the magnifying
You'd think that'd be enough;
no. scapegoats make better side dishes.
So as you set fire to my tears
and blister my voice. I croak
out three. Fuck. You. Bitch.
That's just such a pity.
But seriously yeah, I prefer being
burnt cold than
just another one of your