the Goodwill.

The allure of hanging

Like an old-timey suit

Is just that.

Poetry for the waste-bin,

Ready for the Goodwill.

it happens all the time

tell someone

you love

a simple truth

and watch

while they

twist

and disfigure

your trust

until it is

so unrecognizable

you can’t help

but help them

pick apart

every last piece

of flesh and goodwill

until there is

nothing left

but the laughter

of strangers