why do you listen
to the whispers
of the lost
and unfortunate?
why don’t you learn
to love?
why does the world keep turning
bad?
why don’t I
just sit back and
watch
the battle?
why do you listen
to the whispers
of the lost
and unfortunate?
why don’t you learn
to love?
why does the world keep turning
bad?
why don’t I
just sit back and
watch
the battle?
so much depends
upon
a white coffee
mug
lost in the blue
sink
beside the dripping
tea bags.
You can
mock me.
You can
steal from
me.
You can
spread tasty
stories about
me.
You can
shred my
thoughts into
blood paper
scraps –
your fingers
bleed in the
paper cuts
I cleave.