National Poetry Month.
And a girl with a mouth.
Too many animalistic neon blinking days.
And all I really want is to sink.
Like the SS Copenhagen.
I have history buried under sea.
Coming and going.
Completely looking towards the horizon.
Attach my words to something.
So I sing. Absurd.
Life's just lonely.
Now I let sugar melt me.
And listen to old Tokyo Police Club songs.
Put a scar on my hand.
It will say KJ, for some noon iced coffee reason.