My thoughts From this day in 2014…
I would rent the safety of a promise
willing to sign a lease calling for the heat of my breath
if it meant I could suffer my afterlife able to bare the weight of my name
yearning for frozen waffles, reeses cups, and a pat of butter with corn
never cowering in the face of the doubt of the soulless rage blazing
reaching every high bar
to rip apart the old schools of thought about “cripple girls,”
until every wall fell
having to bite back her laughter until her tongue bled
to avoid the wrath of demons
How much must I pay
for the promise of the heart
Of Misty Spring?
SickyBeat 