son of a bitch

son with the brightest smile in the room,

son fucking every father,

until his mother's favourite man,

is a hat full of hay, tied to a broom,

sweeping the dust of her skin, slithering,

a breathing ghost to carry in his heart,

a blinking tick to fight for the light,

a coughing pause to hear out the thought,

we’re dying about everything,

crying to mean something,

trying to say anything,

until the rest comes alive.