My Wise Cracking Freckles
Strange, all I want is another chance to hold still
Your genuine grin
That oozes burning beauty
Shining brighter than hell
So much so, I have to wear shades and sunblock.
Sometimes I find my intent shot with unholy bullet holes.
Left for dead, my pancreas weeps for you and your mother.
Though in all fairness, you were never fair enough to outwardly apologize
For shunning the mother.
This moment of chaos only comes in bright skies and blue smiles
On days where my brain is fully intact with rules and schools that
Tell me agape is liquid diabetes.
It burns my skin.
My salty, shallow cheeks of self pity sink
When the silver haired hunter warns me not to
Waste my youth on age.