Death Rattle

By: Cam (grave squid) Is it wrong of me to think of death? To want to die, Pretense, intensive analysis of what comes next. I’m not sure it matters, just the fact that its around the corner. Is it life or the crucifix? when I die, I want to go out with a noose around my neck, or a bullet to the heart, in a blaze of fire in a bank. What about an old saloon gun fight? To want to die is not the same as committing suicide. Its not the same of committing a crime. All it is, and … Continue reading Death Rattle

The Vase

Poem By: Cam (Mommy’s little Squid) My Mother, like a vase. Holding a bouquet of flowers, that nurtures their growth. Until the flowers wilt, and meticulously thrown into the void of space. I’m not sure if my mother ever took the Hippocratic Oath, But whatever she did to us kids wasn’t ever on purpose. Much like the vase’s innocence, Its incapable of releasing the water already inside it. My mother, did everything she could to embrace us, Like the flowers in the vase, it was a trap, cave, or pit. Someone that gave all her love to the point of … Continue reading The Vase