Royal Jelly for everyone.

crit 4 crit, leave a link.

Matt Does Matt.

There's nobody here to tell
us to go home, so we'll wait
for the door to close before we
decide to leave. I'm falling in
the couch or inbetween her jacket
sleeves; just caught a cold for miserable
children (they're blowing their noses
on snake skin.) We'll cry about
going to work, or
or church and when we get back
we'll rest until the morning comes,
and cry some more in the corner of
the kitchen, and have to repaint it
on the weekend.

I have no desire, to form
an empire made from sticks and
stones, so instead I'll become my own company.
Forces for a boney lad and a sad chap, forges
form the winter to the summer, wrapping our
weakness around our bicep to check for a pulse.
I keep my box of stolen honey under
my girlfriend's bed. I hope that she
forgives me when she goes to hang
from her neck. If there ever were
a crime, it'd be a passionate one
where the guy buys a pretty necklace
to choke his wife with.

I can't care for anything else,
all I remember when I was a kid
was making crayon rubbings of
gravestones, and showing my mom,
"This one died in 1905." The stems
from the branch, to the leaves on the
ground lacked our failures or our silence,
but they make noises every time that they're
crushed. I promise.

An ocean near, where we can swim
and play with fish and live in.
An ocean near where the baby was
found caught in the brush near
the stubble on my chin. To scratch
and ride the wide waves of everything
is to rub the water out of my eyes.
So we'll cradle it's head in
the pits of my chest and pray to god
it steals something other than my
young blood.