sjsprWriting

We tear our way through this world, leaving rips in the earth and holes in the people

We cloak ourselves

In dark robes, pick tools that dig in slash pierce rip tear wound carve

they are never quite as heavy

as what falls

after.

We call ourselves death and laugh in their face

We

s

w

i

n

g

Like they do

Claim lives

Like they do

Grin all the while

Like they

Do not

We paint this world red

And tell our children

When Death comes

They will be deep dark robes and fearsome bones

(we do not tell them)

(death has been usurped)

(and we reign)

(we do not tell them)

(the knife is in our hands)