i. the cicadas sing ballads of our insomnia
and i feel sadness in my collarbones,
and suddenly,
i am a child again.
i am in the trailer with my horse,
crying over spilt blood,
you said you'd never leave me.
ii. i can pack up my life in 5 minutes.
do we need to leave. do we need to
leave. you said we were done running-
we'd go on vacation and
i'd know what it's like to be happy.
iii. they cut down the lavender bushes.
they plucked each flower,
studied it like a wound,
and threw it between their teeth.
they looked me in the eyes and said
you don't belong, why are you here
and so i vowed to go home.
YOU ARE READING
an idiots guide to life; how to survive the badlands of wyoming
Poetrythe slightly deranged ramblings of a teenage trans guy living in wyoming there's no overarching theme but there sure is a lot of dogs, horses, and god(s) . i do not know what i am talking about 97% of the time mostly posted chronologically in order...
