Splinters

I feel lack luster
And dusted
Dusty white plates busted
On the floor and spreading splinters
A porcelain powder dreary winter
Working its way into the grain of the wooden floor
And now we can't walk with bare feet anymore

Featured on SYWZine on April 11th. 

Paranoia for Dead People

What if it took off my hand
What if it took off my arm
It smells like antiseptic and I'm selfish
It's grating to go through the seasons
And it's tiring to walk to the end of the street
My stop is next and I'm glad
Because I'm gagging from the dentist office smell
Even the smallest sounds are ringing in my ear now.