the world rolled around on my tongue,
sounding less foreign , more prayer.
to love,
i decided,
was to experience.
too look the antelope in the eyes and
tell it that you think it is god.
to draw your knife out of the rabbits pelt,
and apologize to the stars.
the moon hides herself from me tonight.
my horse is painted with my life.
i am sorry.
the rabbits foot did not bring good luck.
it sits on the shelf and the dust gathers
with the spirits who haunt me.
i am not a superstitious man.
do not change the horses name.
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...
