Poem: Season

It’s the end of season

walking outside of the hospital

I feel the lost ghosts

buzzing under trees

her cat died

so crow friends gather

I don’t have a key

I don’t even know what it looks like

but you’ve got a place to put me

where you know

you’re better

and prettier

and smarter

that way

you’ll know where to find me

where to cut me

the gifts you give drop in my lap

drop from your mouth

like vomit from last nights whisky

only the glasses you’ve stolen

have heard your lies and believe them

wading through mud has made our capes filthy

the last light is red

signaling

all the bird eggs inside of me

have rotted

in the heat of my blood