years twisting

If you stand on your head long enough
I'm sure that you will right yourself
I'm sure that you'll be alone by then
Annd you can look on back
At how it all slipped away
Neat and pretty
And in your way

But words are just blisters
You keep in your back pocket
To step on that puddle
And wait for the racket

All tears are just razors
And I'd let you eat them
Should you be choking
On everything you're needing
Here is my laughter
I hope you remember
Well enough to shudder.

as summer tries to sleep

The streets awaken early
The step of the stoop frightening
If only earlier had been
A time to be embarking
The eyes that have grown childish wouldn't feel strained or unfiltered.
There would be even keel.
There are several ways to heal.
But there are no seconds left
And the way out is surreal.

Does it make sense when these broken bastards become monsters or are drowning under?

Can you explain why none of you are that alarmed at how these beings have been harmed?
I thought they had the right to be
Happy or Free.