By: S.A. Quinn
You can spit on me until my flame grows.
Knock me into the everglades without a rope.
I’ll cling onto the idea of civility.
I’ll drown with the idea of civility.
Strip me to my past, my scars.
Frown upon the fullness of my dark and glossy expression.
Dip me into your wax.
Seal my thoughts on paper.
Curse my composure.
I’ll sing the fragments of your words, let them dangle from my tongue.
Slash me all you want, I promise to rise.
My heavy metal will drag your disgust across the floor.
Call me abnormal, it satisfies my thirst.
I’ll return on a Thursday, more powerful with a hammer.
Hammering out the idiocy.
I’ll slurp up the spilled milk you left.
I’ll scratch and tear your surface.
Until you are real.
Kick me harder because I will fly faster.
Crush my fear, use it as a weapon of mass destruction.
I’ll drift higher.
Watch my ebony curls spread across the sky.
Feel the warmth I’ll drop on your stone.
Hear the drums of my survival.
Darling, I’ll burn faster than your fire.
My wax will drip and mix with your tears.
I’ll leave my mark, join me for my arrival.