June 28, 2011

Thunderstorm


It’s nice
to feel the rain and
know my hair is
frizzy and
ruined. I like to know
my shirt is wet and catch
men gazing, women glaring.
I hate the worms,
and love them. They’re so vile
on sidewalk cracks,
I like to feel like killing them.

After so many floating castles and
silver linings, it’s nice to see
the world for once, torn and
licking its wounds.

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