DEATH BY CONVERSATION

By Ailish NicPhaidin

Dampness spread like a surrogate mother

Into the mobile home of lust and dust

Spared only by the traveler

Who watched from afar

And then pounced.

Thrills and spills and fuss

Amongst the tears rips and trash

Too far to travel, its dark outside

The blood rips the skin off her back

And her front and her sides

While Jesus came in and

Faded away.

So I had another to calm the pain.

They all said, "it's going to get better".

And you think you need me.

You think you know me.

All of me, side by side

Together.

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