Clack Clack

Blood fall, blood meal, blood fails.
There’s blood in ‘em leaves.

And all the while the high heel lady goes:
Clack clack clackity clack upstairs.

Blood on the tracks
Socks in your pants
(The pockets)
Sop it!

That clack clack clackity clack…

What I’m Reading:

“… maybe I’ll live to be really old … to die decrepit and alone … with the only company being the crabs who slowly chew off my face.”

— Elizabeth Pich / Fungirl: You Are Revolting