6.11.18

Apple Bed


Of horses wet
With melted ice
They would not heed
My advice
And burdened limbs
Of it's weight
To break and rot
A whispered fate
Please
Doctor, please
A remedy
In a bloody sea
To breach the hive
And smoke the bees
You can be my friend
You can be my dog
You can be my light
You can be my fog
 
Please
Doctor, please
 
The witches will return to their sticky tree knots
I will feel the sun
I will feel the sun
I will feel the sun coming down
I wish I had
A horse's head
A tiger's heart
An apple bed

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