Hurt
By Joy Motz
It doesn’t just ‘hurt good.’
It takes scabs from wound past
And melts them and time
Down to their bloody beginning.

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Hurt
By Joy Motz
It doesn’t just ‘hurt good.’
It takes scabs from wound past
And melts them and time
Down to their bloody beginning.
Whisper to the Trees
By Joy Motz
I recommend,
You walk the streets
Like you could whisper to the trees
And they’d do your bidding.
Like the world is crashing down around you
And you are the cause of it.
Like the ocean is a drop of your sweat,
An avalanche is your rage,
And the sky is the blue of your iris,
Staring down at the world day after day.
Midtown Pizza