I Never Saw Him…

I am envious of the lens that saw him moments before he died–he smiled. kids rolled down hills, their screams were the things of dreams… I tumble and feel wet grass, growing around his gravestone, a place that marks the letter sealed inside. words eaten long ago by worms–scorched on a sidewalk, split in half […]

Happy

If he saved himself I would be happy. If he had a little jar of air I would be happy to poke some breathing holes. Summer ends as his swollen body returns only to be eaten by tiny bugs and worms. Grass is greener over hereā€¦ a ghost is fog that lingers near. Try to […]