The Nightmares

The weather is perfect for carrying another predicament.

Go ahead and curse me out,

Send the dogs right after my scent.

The leaves in visibly plastic trees beg for attention

And I carry out their every wish.

They notice but never once mention.

The air pierces my left lung and pinches the heart repeatedly.

Stab wound on stab wound, well layered,

Silencing me in perfect harmony.

The roofs of recently built homes covered in nasty rust.

I close my right eye to see clearer.

The sun turns tenebrous, the winds break my trust.