delusion

i live for this.
fucking with words.



slippery

shadowboned finger tips tap.
beats. across. the. windowpane. alone.
please IGNORE their pleas for rhyme.
still, rain. drops. crash. cymbals on
THE rooftop. keeping. time.
pestering PERCUSSIVE begging. me. to. write.
a line.
or two.
Morse Code CONFESSIONS. not. mine. not.
about you.
this is just the sky cracked open and
THRASHING
burdened clouds halting. tripping
UNDER and
cr
a
sh ing.
this is just MY black night flashing.
across her CHEST, splashing
electric gashes to catalogue her woe.
i'm fine.
no, really.
no.