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Literature Text
Just heard a girl I used to work with was murdered
Shot in the head
Now she's dead
Sometimes I just wanna sleep
Fetal position
Outta my head
Bad thoughts, bad dreams, bad memories
RIP girl
The young die hard
I never knew you girl
But I love you
19 is too young
I'm drinking here crying
Wishin' this margarita wasn't blue
A boy got a girl pregnant
They was gonna have a family
But she found out he was gay
She murdered the baby
Now the boy's a father
A dead baby
RIP baby
How old you gonna be now?
The young die hard
Maybe two months old
Too much soul
Two months old
Too much soul
I'll never know you
But I love you
My best friend got pregnant
She loves her baby
Best thing in the world
But she got feeling real bad
Bad thoughts, bad dreams, bad memories
My friend, she's feeling blue
Don't know what to do
I love her
Don't know what to do
I'm drinking here crying
Wishin' this margarita doesn't turn blue
Shot in the head
Now she's dead
Sometimes I just wanna sleep
Fetal position
Outta my head
Bad thoughts, bad dreams, bad memories
RIP girl
The young die hard
I never knew you girl
But I love you
19 is too young
I'm drinking here crying
Wishin' this margarita wasn't blue
A boy got a girl pregnant
They was gonna have a family
But she found out he was gay
She murdered the baby
Now the boy's a father
A dead baby
RIP baby
How old you gonna be now?
The young die hard
Maybe two months old
Too much soul
Two months old
Too much soul
I'll never know you
But I love you
My best friend got pregnant
She loves her baby
Best thing in the world
But she got feeling real bad
Bad thoughts, bad dreams, bad memories
My friend, she's feeling blue
Don't know what to do
I love her
Don't know what to do
I'm drinking here crying
Wishin' this margarita doesn't turn blue
Literature
O My Blue Soul
By sickness, Death’s herald and champion,
We were murdered.
They didn’t want to hear
Our screams. They see us as merely queer.
I screamed at you that night we saw the first
Black balloon on your chest. I planned to make you burst
Into tears and blood. My guilty conscience
Kept me from my grievance.
I left, never to return. And then
You died.
I lied to everyone,
Said it was you, not I who left. Not I who was weak
And broken and foolish and willing to throw us away. We were dying anyway, what was the point of being meek?
I lied about everything. I can’t stop, even if I wanted to.
And I do.
Telling the truth, even now-
It wou
Literature
Eucalyptus.
i.
five bottles of light
rest on my window;
they are small,
coloured
ii.
there are stories and
stories
of sex, hidden in the
handbag;
black leather,
I could never tell
iii.
a list of ten, more
reasons to
love you;
a justification
iv.
more humid than rain;
my whole is saturated,
tired
v.
monday was lust;
tuesday boredom;
wednesday digust; and
today, I am
apathetic.
Literature
Caffeine
Lately,
I hate the taste of coffee.
Even though I’d grown to love it.
I used to swear it wasn’t for me,
but then I started thinking that maybe I’d been missing out
by just ordering cookies at the coffee shop.
And I’d asked you,
“How have I gone without it for this long?”
It keeps me awake,
Smells like home,
and gives me a break to look forward to.
I liked it so much I even started drinking it
without sugar.
But now, as I sit here
forcefully sipping a mug
of mostly milk and syrup,
I wonder if the reason I’m hating the taste
is because the reason I liked it
was you.
Suggested Collections
A blue margarita is also called a "dead chick".
I might come back to this and make a change or two.
I might come back to this and make a change or two.
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Comments6
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it's very sad but I love the cadence, the flow. Wonderful writing, Davey 