She had put great effort

Into a self-commissioned

Portrait of yours truly

Covered in red flags

Wearing a tiara

Atop a unicorn

So I took it upon myself

To write a historical poem

About her being

A clueless victim

With a penchant for bad boys

And a bad case of the hiccups

Who dies on the operating table

Everything is art

David Burdett

6/24/2023

Struck

By how little

I am able

To pull meaning

From any of it

"What do you want for dinner?"

She asks,

From a residential

Kitchen,

"A hill of beans"

I answer,

From a parallel

Dimension.

Now you know

What she's up against.

You should stop

By sometime.

She's beautiful

David Burdett

6/23/2023

Like most people

Who insist on happiness

He was a timebomb

So, when he stomped me to the ground

And proceeded to use my head

As a trampoline

I was surprised

That I was shocked

Because like most people

Who yearn

For something different

I should have seen it coming

David Burdett

8/9/2022

She only reaps when it is fertile,

only takes when there is enough.

Today she is overflowing

with a white, hot anger.

If she bottled it all up,

she could burn the whole world to the ground.

If only with her stare.

Those blue, diamond eyes that want to suffocate all of the light,

that want to blacken the soil with char and sulfur.

Resurrect her past offenders and fucking b r e a k them.

With her bare hands.

Her eyes a bloodthirsty cobalt, as hard as glass, and thirsty for blood.

She wants to rip them limb from limb.

Today, is the reaping.

She will meet those murderers of her past and present life, chrome .45 in hand,

staring down that barrel of death saying the last words they'll ever hear...

"Today, you die.”