violence I

Somewhere near, six years

The older kids had crushed the snake

Front tires high, reveals a spine inside

We buried it slow

Behind my grandfather's garage

Sticks as gravestone, tied

First flame, the guilt of being alive

We’ll talk more later

At home, we are

Just fragile snakeskin

Outgrown, outgrown

This will be, my life

This will be, my life

This will be, my life