just a collection of poetry scraps

i'm afraid i lost my only good quality
last night

 i keep waking up at midnight expecting a sunrise
and i can't keep it up anymore

if i'm not back by morning bury me in mahogany

write me a message and slide it under my door 

i'll read had once or twice

before tuckong it underneath floorboards and behind closet walls

move a couple of the skeletons in the closet
hanging up winter clothes

and if i'm not back by morning bury me in mahogany

draped in robes of white

with red bleeding into the seams

chicken scratches etched on my hand
and rings made of stained copper covering up the mess