A rose made of blood
where the thorn cruelly cuts me
blossoms in my palm.
I, a rose...made of flesh...blood
...
In Maths class
I'm lost
clashing with the crushing Calculus
...
I put this window in
with my Dad
(well, I …helped him) .
...
Seeing as no one else would
I started stalking
me.
...
“DARK IS THE NIGHT
“Kill the candle boy! ”
I do as my uncle asks.
...
Your eyes
intent on the hunt
track down words
...
Like God said
to make Time
you have to crack open
...
Here now
I hold you
astonished at
...
The poem
fresh from the pen
was still...& then
...