Turning Red

it was kind of ironically funny
to me that
I weep now
at the smallest of 
Shepherds in their graveyards,
sheep jumping off cliffs,
horror caught in the glint of an eye,
violence thrust out
upon me,
throwing wild punches,
I prayed with every
to forgive you
and move on,
but the dragon just
rests and always
wakes up for fire breathing
and poisoned kisses.

I wept then once again,
and just because
you saw a glint
of me,
in your eye,
when standing
in front of your mirror,
doesn’t mean
you understood me.
So, fuck you for
your assumptions.
It would seem,
that you should know better.

And now,
even my dreams are weeping,
it struck me as
so fucking odd
to fear
through the night and the day,
which is only
a new path to
some bright fascinating
And it causes me
to pause and wonder
if there’s another afterlife
after the afterlife.

Smoke and mirrors,
I cursed the ground and
almost let the devils
of medicine
decide my fate,
no fucking thank you.
Nothing owns me,
not even your
cancerous minds
that left me,
in an alleyway to nowhere,
to whore out my talents,
in the trenches,
of a war that
wasn’t mine,
separate your fears
from your
or else
they will win,
and in my experience,
many times the demons
end up
along with
the government, and
I wont fucking allow it.

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