Inquisitions And Tornadoes

Old poem, I liked it a lot, but it's kind of short. My friend Cheyenne enlisted me to write some slam, so. It's intended to be read aloud, y'know.

Be Like

Don't cry cardboard, baby.

It paper-cuts too deep and

you can't even

river me

with it.

Don't bite your fingers to water, Jamie.

You only have so much

and I can't kiss it better

when you've stopped beating.

Don't stomp the stairs down, Johnny.

How will I climb to your love dressed in

sorry because

I can't climb walls, Peter.

I'm too afraid of jumping down.

Don't ignite, Chloe.

I'm buried too deep to put you out

and who will broom up your ash eyes

with weeping willow fingers?

Don't charcoal horses, Tommy.

You used up all the gas

when you reversed the world's turn

and all the little birds upside-down fell

away.

Don't sad sky, emily.

Sad sunsets

so that I

can sunrise you happy.

Don't dream nightingales

dream mockingbirds.