I’ve been approaching the surface for a year.
I’ve seen emotions derail and disappear.
Go feed the colorful snakes outside, she said to me.
Go break your colorful bones in a fight, she begged of me.
We are returning to the ominous.
We are a lost cause.
We are committing to the dominance
of these black claws.
I try to smile when I get bad news.
Figure if there is any good left, I’ll get that too.
The blood is red but the veins are blue.
And my bones are every color on the spectrum between the two.
I squeeze through the cells that we’ve been locked in.
Kinda high from the loss of the oxygen.
Headrush, flushed, dropping dead weight.
My canine scrapes the last crumbs off my bread plate.
Just head straight.
No maps or no atlas.
No matter how the road curves don’t end up backwards.
Black birds circle brown dirt for the big worms.
My bad dream catcher hangs high as it twist turns.
Cities burn a bad smoke.
It makes my eyes itch.
But front row seats to apocalypse are priceless.
Life is hanging here in these black claws.
Staring at a white sky full of black stars.
One straw in the drain.
One word that you failed to sustain.
Someone stranded empty handed.