gasoline swirls down my cheeks. pools of black rainbows cling to my shoes. i can hear rats in the cracks of the world, scrape scrape scrape. gasoline stinks like something illegal, like dropping bombs over his head.
and i once thought, 'when i perish, i intend to deserve it, with dirt under my fingernails and my grin full of sin, with a burning truck behind me in a cracked field of weeds, the smokin' kind that gets you high high high.'
matches are quivering in my fingers, and i don't know what the fuck else to write.
except --
i was going to crash a plane into his house. instead,
i cut off his oxygen
supply...
Author notes
i am a disturbed bitch. yay?
A contest entry
- siphoned by najji.
400 points, ended September 11, 10 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
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