The little ones suffer best
Because they don’t know any better
They don’t always fight
Cuz they don’t how
Not like these guys
The one in the suit
Presses the kid’s luck
The one in the tie
Runs the child’s head into the carpet
Rubbing it back and forth
Smashing it
Into the pile
He’s twisting away
Like he did last summer
Twistin’ away…
They flip the punk over
*Flump*
The one in the suit undoes his belt
And loops it around
The boy’s neck
The one in the tie
Takes the tie off
And cinches the flailing feet
They’re locked in
This moment
Their communion
This taste of flesh and blood
Will be savored
Forever
Or
At least
Until the rest of
The bourbon
Washes it away
Blackboulder 