.never trust a pumpkin.
i still don’t care
about your bright, feeble existence.
but then you never cared much for mine, did you?
what were we?
a pair of grinning jack o’ lanterns, you used to say.
sitting together, precariously balanced on someone’s front stoop.
then the nighttime hooligans came ‘round with a cacophony of sound.
they had two to choose from, you and i.
you were the one who got to live, there on that stoop until your smile rotted and sagged.a peaceful garbage can grave.
i was the one they destroyed, thrown into the street, scooped up again, battered until the cheap electric tea light in my guts cracked and went dark.
left to decompose in the gutter, sun bleached, a snack for hungry vermin.
and your frozen smile watched all the while, gloating.pretending to grieve, but really just glad that it wasn’t you.
YOU ARE READING
Club 27 Has Reached Capacity - F. T. Willz
PoetryEvery poem by F. T. Willz I could find. Some of them are titled by me seeing as they didn't have any titles or dates to use as a chapter name, although every poem is definitely written by F. T. Willz. Enjoy.