the dead act more from the heart
than the living I meet
*
did you ever wonder
that he might have been right when he said
fuck you
to your face, you prancing prick?
*
the dead meet me
*
I see feces in your eyes
*
everyday questions overwhelm me
*
play your music
my feet are blue
or cold
or dead
*
you burdened me with your silence
you had the words
but you swallowed them all
and bathed them in unjust fear
*
“I don’t get involved” = “this is wrong and I won’t make it right”
Croque-Melpomene 