Raz
Bluelighter
black flowers bloom on my mother's grave
every petal made
from shit and blood
i am no gardener
you tell me
they're out of control
and i tell you
you don't have the right to an opinion
until you've cut it out
or broken it out
or screamed it out
too.
black dreams live inside my skull
beneath bone plates interlocked
trying to keep them in
i would tell you what they bring
but i can't see in the dark
all i hear is
the keening
and the keen sense
of longing and
loss.
black memories won't die
no matter how deep they're buried
they breathe their taint
into the roots of who we are
and there is only one quiet darkness
which will take them
away.
in that quiet darkness
black flowers finally
die.
every petal made
from shit and blood
i am no gardener
you tell me
they're out of control
and i tell you
you don't have the right to an opinion
until you've cut it out
or broken it out
or screamed it out
too.
black dreams live inside my skull
beneath bone plates interlocked
trying to keep them in
i would tell you what they bring
but i can't see in the dark
all i hear is
the keening
and the keen sense
of longing and
loss.
black memories won't die
no matter how deep they're buried
they breathe their taint
into the roots of who we are
and there is only one quiet darkness
which will take them
away.
in that quiet darkness
black flowers finally
die.
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