She hides in the subtle shake of evening curtains
Don't you worry
Little switchblade sister
Shooting boomerang bullets

You can't hurt you, babe
I am your armor plate

Every sunset
Deserves a dump truck

Along edges and inglenooks
Corn rows
Forbearing, deaf ears
My model's made for the lost

I eat rounds
But my guts are getting full

My time from swaddling to dirt
I will spend as shielding, lifting arm
And when the lights go out
A kiss in the dark

Mors ex Pun

Have I swallowed up crazy?
Or will this harvest save me?

In the end, though, don't worry babe
Nothing gets through this armor plate

08/03/2014

Author's Note: I'm a snake in the grass, but a nice one.

Posted on 08/03/2014
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