Ally C.
Tyler Jungbauer
tortured skies filled
with broken windows
lacking eyes; —
someone told me
I bleed a lot
through my fingers,
and so the rain
falls in tortuous ribbons
shackling a horizon
made out of bones
and terror-struck frowns:
a world of madmen,
shrieking for lips and hugs
fluid-stuffed bodies, beaten,
bruised, I watch it crumple,
the world, like a paper flower,
burgeoning, alive, struggling
in the fire, tallow with burns,
caught amid his brass teeth.