i am a beautiful and fucking ugly thing

so live. create. kill.


THE CREEK;

the war that was fought across her collarbone
meant causalities fell down the long narrow road
of her sternum toward a place that cannot be home
nor anywhere but where the dreams go
when their dreams have writhed in their beauty
and died in her arms like her unborn child
seeped from her barren womb with his mouth.        she fell down again last night.

Notes