I needn’t say this again,
Fall on me
World,
Mother,
Nature.
An eclipse, a disaster,
A picture-perfect moment.
I,
And the toc-toc-toc-toc.
Rock me to perfect refinement in a barren cradle,
With a tic-tic-tic-tic.
And a sickening need to release it all,
Fire,
Fall,
Vines and I,
And you.
And the asphyxiation of the world’s requirements.
But I will thump-thump-thump-thump
This old rotten apple until the end of me.
I needn’t say this again,
Allow the heavy sky to fall...to collapse on my frail grin.
But the old, dusty thing will continue to throb.
Until I molt you like snakeskin.