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We all die loving something we don’t need.

My medicine calls

Me home to bed from

A place I don’t belong.

A fairytale of sorts

We’re the birds peck

At my unbalanced brain,

The scarecrows use wrench’s

And screwdrivers to pull

Out the flowers from growing on the

Inside of my lungs

Squeezing the last of 

My Essences in the graveyard

My mouth has become holding

Dead, welted petals where

My tombstone lays

Yet, people are like clouds,

They’re the sweet doubled

Stuff Oreos I taste on my tongue

But they’re sweeter once Their


As sweet as the wine

My tongue wavers

In a mountain of unopened


I cut my teeth, cut my tongue

Till my mouth is bleeding red

Cotton candy because

My mind has become hallucination.

My meds call me home

While it drags me through the

Mud, dripping blood

On white covered lilies

I’m finally home

In heavens doorway,

A place where I don’t


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