Crushed

Busy, busy, boy in red 
But I’m swifter still 

Get my demise in your head 
Think to be my pill

Do you dream I’ll give my all
To your damnedest plan

This Dark Friday caused your fall
My The Great I Am

Foothills

We are beautiful
You know
Out here looking in
But were we 
In there looking out
I doubt
We’d see it 

We’d worship
Screens and glass
Belongings and
Our own stale air 
But out there
Out here
We are beautiful

With These Wings

Were I a wise fly on the wall

Watching the nonsense unfold

I’d fly away

But not before the whir in my wings

Shouted

She’s given you everything

Do you need my eyes 

To see unbegrudgingly

The mosaic beauty of her