Skin

[iamchlorine]

Here,
It’s all hooded eyes and flooded lungs.
It’s all gorging on poster pull-outs
And ripped up pages
Of words we saw but never read.
It’s all hearts on the outside.
It’s all teary eyes and torn up letters.
It’s all Tinas and Glorias
And the way we come together.
It’s all light in the darkness
And collect calls in the chapel.
It’s all excrements and exclamations
Of wasted clarinet lessons
And the weight of words on a woman’s heart.
It’s all doing what we feel
And ashtrays out in the open.
It’s all smoke curling towards the sun

Here,
It’s all madmen.