it started as a tear
just a slight slit in the page
the scissors cut upwards
towards the moon
it's said that people do crazy things
when the moon is full
a ripping of the stomach lining
makes the sound of crushed expectations
it fast turned into a case of plastic eyes
and painted expressions
the prosthetic smile was the work of
pensive surgeons, prayer, and shame
the nights are the hardest
when the shadows turn to crawling creatures
and the moon always feels
full.
i wreck shit. & love popsicle sticks with jokes on them.
