the devil's in the detailsthere’s a beautiful boy sitting on the curb
of a street somewhere in that time right before
the sun sets and his head is in his hands
and he’s never looked more beautiful or more alone
and you want to tell him it’ll be fine,
that it’ll be okay, that soon he’ll outrun whatever’s
doggin’ his heels, that it may seem crowded now
but there’ll always be more earth
than people, or else we’d be driving
through ghosts and the whole
point of driving is to run away from them.
but he doesn’t have the right kind of eyes
to believe that. they’re red and bloodshot
like he’s been crying too long
to ever listen to you.
you don’t sit down next to him. he does
not expect you to. he may or may not
know you’re even there. if he did,
he’d make you leave because you don’t
belong with him, this angel of a boy,
you don’t want to put him together
you want to watch him finish falling apart
because broken things
Charred remains of a modern society The little girl was dancing on the street, among the entrails of a once bustling suburb now strewn chaotically across the scorching asphalt. Her blithesome essence shone through her skin, in the whimsical way she twirled and threw her arms in the air, brushing her wayward curls aside. She crafted a dust storm and trapped the sunlight in her eyes, oblivious to the rubble sinking into her toes and the loaded gun in her brothers hand.
She fell, asphyxiated by her own storm as the bullet carved its way into her flesh. And as the last gleam of light left her eyes, poppies blossomed from the cracked pavement, their crowns swaying in the chemical laden wind the way the girl never would again.
CommissionWith a head of inky black hair, a boy scanned the babbling crowd;
Poor little low-lifes,
he thought to himself,
such ignorant beings with such fragile images.
Towering over the wall of screaming children,
he merely watched their games
As they battered each other with
If that were him
at one point
A girl with light-brown hair stomped in front of him,
cutting him off.
"Where do you think you're going, smarty-pants."
looking at her,
he stalked on.
"You're not worth my time."
Anger bubbled beneath her pink skin
but he kept going
crawled up his face
as he noticed two hazelnut eyes
trying to bear
two comet sized
in the back of his head.
His steps sounded through the strangely
asian boy skidded into him,
vitamin water sloshing dangerously near the edge.
The boy smiled at him and they continued down the corridor,
with their own