Idiot.

chadwick

Idiot
I am jumping off a building.

Each brick and concrete block
a bone of mine
smashed under.

Each window
a golden set of wings and sun
falling like passing stone.

Zooming pushing in on memory
before my brain
crawls out of its busted up box.

I like the blood part
it is splattered graffiti of myself and slime
after a week or two of baking between sidewalk cracks
and feet
in the August sun’s boiling hardships.

As I look down crying
I think to myself
an insect to a truck
a bee to a sledgehammer
a fly swatter.

I cry out of breath
broken apart
busted
every splintered fragment rolls off of me
as if marbled ball bearings held me together
with flesh over bone
no more.

Now a lost pancake
I have no syrup.

Ms. Wes C.addle

This is different... and very good.

What did the pancake do to you?