sanity written in tissue.
it rained tonight.
heavy and hard stuff laced with endings
stretched together to form new beginnings.
some colorless, others crimson and some
violet – songs sung by hushed veins.
snorting sadness like a coke fiend, can't get
enough and it always manages to seek out
his color green behind trees. he's been clean
for weeks, living off warm arms and body
sacrifices to make it go away for awhile.
seductive promises of an alluring adrenaline
rush whispered hot and heavy into his ear. knew
exactly where the invisible dotted lines on his
skin lived, burrowing in all the right places to
make a lullaby;
"hush little songbird, don't you cry."