Don't Die

Cradled heart shaped graves, opened wide as chips crumble from shoulders sunken in, and off the chest marked like foreign soil.

Lovers flutter on wires suspended from on high the clothes pinned lights that sustain their flight one after another as the scenes of these crimes remain open chested, as the casket is being delivered with 2 day shipping. 

Evidence long exposed to the weather, and the wounds the only photographs the memory has. Trophy smiles, as snakes and wolves creep back the masks slipping between those exposed in this struggle between right, and wrong. 

I take your place in the show down, gunned down over, and over as the vultures circle my open, and festering wounds. Onlookers insist I can walk it off, as I wander for a cool place to wait. 

Scabs peel back in the summer revealing the healed skin underneath wings are still in the process as they were long removed in the kitchen sink. The past screams from all ends my extended warranty has expired, and I am still unable to mouth to mouth the words I bottle bedside on these sleepless nights. 

I never wanted this open door I was shown all possible features, but struggle to stay in one place.

The train is always leaving on the thirty, as skin is always looking to shed, wounds looking to heal.

Gun shots ring out, as the heart is imploding closed casket, open grave.