traumabonding dumpster clown love song II
I think you grew up hungry.
Corners sliced off a stick of gum precise as cocaine.
each fragment savored
as your concave stomach growled
I think you grew up watchful.
rolling weight toe-through-heel on creaky floorboards
diving for cover when the door unlatched
praying to no god-
let me be gloriously lethal
and poison-frog bright
let me bask chuckling in a knife’s cold kiss
my saunter a warning
my smile a threat
you flinched and shivered. scrambled to obey.
dreamed of ripping throats out with your first baby teeth.
I think that’s why you laugh when someone lunges
fists outstretched.
you’ve reeled them in
invisible strings sticky as a handprint on a child’s slapped cheek
even a clean hit whispers:
skin on skin
Horror Sleaze Trash 