I bet you thought it would be different, being human.
…sharp teeth of an angel.
Poetry is only a moment.
Love with a whole heart, or not at all — not even a little.
I write what I feel, and I let it go.
It’d be far more interesting to kick someone in the knee, watch them drop, and then use your own knee to bludgeon their nose further into their face.
We point at the path of sticky entrails and we blame you.