@jonrt
Red State
All the long years wrung from the cloth of my very soul.
The sorrow—dear and empty—switch with me.
I still cry with eyes closed,
over flowers found by the edges.
Over feathers foolishly I let fly their silver.
Dream, how I never saved any.
How I gave up after so many.
Wish I could feel content.
Wish I could feel anything—
except this crippling sense of my own self-regret.
You want the pictures back,
for proof to exist.
For clasp to life,
in my lazy third eye.
Come back nights, the pale moon shines.
When the stars take off in rings.
Like looking down your shin past your phone.
You're what's left after it's all gone—
small memories, big dreams,
TV dinners flash-frozen in places.
Rows of drone-life,
filling out paperwork for tickets to dinner
on verre craquelé data sets
in tiny foil allocations.
Drinking Sundrop & pink Jolly Ranchers,
sprites dancing under mock apostle enlightenment—
bitches calling it cotton candy vermouth.
Evil living their best life
in backyard red states.
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