I waited in the parking lot, bloody knees in a bad town, a girl there running around. She was special, aching in my tears. She was so lovely, fantastic eyes, the one I used lay beside. I don't have a home anymore and walked into the strip mall bar with threats all over the walls. The people in there had some drinking money sent from home. The monsters people feed. We drank, and the evening robbed the graves of lives we couldn’t bother with.
These rusted-out ears hear the sound of cicadas breathing a second wind into the afternoon, bringing honor to evening. I blinded a few cicadas once—held a magnifying glass to concentrate the sun into a beam burning their eyes out. Then I set them free. I watched with burnt-out eyes that died a string of illnesses. Cicadas flew away like normal.
There are some lives you don’t want to peek into, and hers was one. She told me she raised four children but was the biological mother of three. One died last year at age 26. What remained was a skeleton’s stare filled with secrets.
These rusted-out ears hear the sound of cicadas breathing a second wind into the afternoon, bringing honor to evening. I blinded a few cicadas once—held a magnifying glass to concentrate the sun into a beam burning their eyes out. Then I set them free. I watched with burnt-out eyes that died a string of illnesses. Cicadas flew away like normal.
There are some lives you don’t want to peek into, and hers was one. She told me she raised four children but was the biological mother of three. One died last year at age 26. What remained was a skeleton’s stare filled with secrets.
