Youth

Our youth

already dead

sits rotting

in our heads

forgot’s

the

ending sun’s

dusky red

that warmed our

naked backs

while we ran

through fields

of dandelions

and lilacs

towards those dreams

that back then

seemed more like facts

and now we

drown those lies

in pools of whiskey

we hit

these walls

brick by brick

to watch our knuckles drip

the same color red

once upon a youth

with which

we now

paint

our own pain