poetry

September 16th, 2009

(for the reading impaired)

- Remove line breaks
+ Add line breaks

Season End

I was bruised more than beaten
on your neighbor’s front lawn.
She watered her garden
like straw on a farm.

She loved me and waited
until I was strong.
But at my weakest occasion,
she married her crown.

Every day felt like rehab on the side of my mouth,
and she kissed me like splinters at the back of a barn.

The old winter’s coming;
The one that you knew
for bringing you cruelty
and suicidal booze.

Written and Copyright by Matt Kane on Wednesday, September 16th, 2009