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Bolt or Bust

flex your new self-image,
bones bending into a more true shape
wings fall off,
hearts drop out
    of your mouth
and spikes sprout out of your back.


three inches between your body
and love.
the points meet against my chest
as I run to give you back your
conscience.

three inches till bloodshed,
and the vemon sticks into my stomach.

I ran into your back,

as you bolted out of my life.

Author notes

2/27/09

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Comments


  • Fireworks
    March 8
    Edit | Reply
    This is one of my favorites that you have written.

    I miss you already.