Poetry

Orange Bleeched Sunset faded

I don't like your palm trees
Or that stupid song you let linger in your atmosphere
From here it looks like my dead hair I pulled out
Swirling soggily down my brown shower drain
Driving around with you, the gas that you pump in and out
It comes from your mouth
It's like a never ending cough spitting out
You're a sewer
I used to feel differently
You used to feel clean, like the smell of freshly cut dandelions
Your song wasn't sad, it felt like an orange bleached sunset
Lips fleeting up and down my body
But the sunset turned into a melting icy
The stickiness dripping off my hand onto the vomit concrete
Your stench changed from creamy chocolaty sucking waves to
A sinking plain rock who fills itself with tears
I can't stand you yet I used to be the one holding you up