CemeterySound Poetry

[o'queery]

Trapped inside the
feathered silence
of Your smile
I falter

Shaky trouble and
clefts
that refuse to hide
his excuses
anymore

A cage of
metal mirrors
nestled
between
broken sunshine

Putrid rain that paints
Your corpse upon my hands
in hues of canary
yellow
and blood
orange dead

I am blinded by fear

and

filth

and

cemetery birdsongs

Tripping on
a beak
full of foul notes and
haunting whomever will
listen to me
and my pain

In those unhinged sighs beaneath the bars of
Your dirty fingers is
where I will find
rest

Touching the wings of severed harmony
and
explode into the
sky