Eastdale Rd.

Torn apart
She cowers and crouches
His fists flying furious
And she screams for the
Kids to leave the room

Pushed to the furthest point
Gnawing anger
Biting and nipping
His blurred vision
Will take him
And drag him
Over the edge

She’s lying peaceful
In an old favorite
Pair of jeans
Laced in her blood
Arms outstretched

Panic coursing like
Never before
Running out of options
Running out of ways out
He grabs the rifle by the door

Children screaming
Cops in the driveway
She’s lying quiet
He’s in the yard
More than over the edge,
Gone too far
And too far gone

The Curse

You say the blame
is not on me
but by that
i feel you are taking
our experience
piece by piece
from me
till there is nothing left
to remember you by
Demeaned
Memories that were mine
as keepsakes
are now tarnished
and i am made to feel
like they never existed
That what we felt
never existed
Starving them all to nothing
You say she’s uncomfortable
with our friendship and her bad memories
but it’s the healthiest one yet
I want to remember
I want you here
for me
in theory only
a borrowed friendship
occasional
inconsistent
what could be the harm in that?