I've watched every episode of Bones.

Seen every blow, bludgeon, and brain.


And I flinch when the train comes.


I've seen seven seasons of Criminal Minds,

Every psychopath, slaying, and sleepless beat


And I can't watch an oncoming train.


I take it every day

But I have to look away

when it pulls into the station

Cuz there's always a chance

It might hit me...


It sceams bloody murder two stations down the line

And, shit, that's a reaper coming for my soul I

Can watch the Exorcist

With my lunch intact

So it's odd I can't face my fate

with tact in fact

It's sad.


I could watch you die any day any way

And I can't even glance at a passing reflection

Of New York's River Styx

It stings like I've been hit by a train.


And it has passed again.


This poem is about: 
My community


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