17 times a day, 13 ways to play
I buried my toes in the sand and looked at the pull of the moon on me turning my face to the salt pouring down upon my cheeks and I didn’t think it would matter if I cried
I listened to her say again and again you could have approached me in a different way you could have approached me in a different way while my face was framed in the little bathroom window staring at peach stucco.
I know the children were quiet because they hate the sound as much as I do as it rises and vibrates across those invisible cords of air with its anger and its pain and its hidden self-loathing.
I felt the sun hit my eyes and then she hit my ears and I didn’t know to distinguish one from beauty and the other from blasphemy because they both struck me and sent me back under my soft sheets with my bird sleeping in her feathers next to me, listening to them both.
I buried my soul in the sand and I left it there while I figure out how to make a way to reformulate the developing cells in the mind of a child so that they don’t carry salt on their wounds into adulthood.
I plan on killing.
I listened to her say again and again you could have approached me in a different way you could have approached me in a different way while my face was framed in the little bathroom window staring at peach stucco.
I know the children were quiet because they hate the sound as much as I do as it rises and vibrates across those invisible cords of air with its anger and its pain and its hidden self-loathing.
I felt the sun hit my eyes and then she hit my ears and I didn’t know to distinguish one from beauty and the other from blasphemy because they both struck me and sent me back under my soft sheets with my bird sleeping in her feathers next to me, listening to them both.
I buried my soul in the sand and I left it there while I figure out how to make a way to reformulate the developing cells in the mind of a child so that they don’t carry salt on their wounds into adulthood.
I plan on killing.