zebrasindenver

Oh and so run the tears like wine as i sit here writing my poems

like a dog with a pen shoved in its jowls trying to pick the locks of its cage,

There is no escape from these scribbling scratches that put together make the proses that turn hardened hearts to liquid that fill my cup,

The oyster battles the sea only to be opened by those that cannot hear nor see the suffering as it tries to guard its cage a whole,

But that you might see,

That i might let you peek through the bars but never let even a finger pass these bars, stand a ways away, these 32 teeth that long for your pale hide, hence these cages of dignity, monogamy, and honesty.

Goodnight now, lay down and lie next to him, to him.