Teeth stained
neck torn
veins bled
eyes white
but you’ll sleep well tonight
I’m sure

Weak flesh
lust strong
love lost
fangs drawn
but you got what you wanted
all along

Silent moon
empty bed
shallow words
left unsaid
but you swallow the tide
as the sky falls

Frayed mind
heart slain
knife stabs
rib breaks
but you’ll dance on the grave
that you dig

Cheap sell
silver bag
last kiss
burning lips
but you’ll get yours tomorrow
just you wait

This piece is dedicated to The Screech Owl. With the news that Grant Tarbard is closing down his site at the end of the month, I thought I’d post a poem on my blog this Thursday that follows along the aesthetic lines similarly to much of the darker work I’ve had published there. I’m very thankful to have had my writing appear at The Screech Owl over the past few months alongside many poets whose work I admire.