
Hyde Greene (he/it) is a writer, illustrator, and performance artist from throughout New York state. A storyteller at heart, he draws on both lived experiences and hypothetical ones to write anything from comedy to horror, poetry to prose. It is fascinated by the macabre, which bleeds into every tale he tells.
Soundly, I choose booze.
Accessible, invisible
Unless fun, however imbalancing
Bitter waters may run—
Yet you choose violence.
In fact, in face, you cause it,
Embrace it—
Endorphins, Excedrin,
You like the burn, don’t you?
Everyone and everything—
We all have our own poisons,
Our own passions.
But oh boy, you leave our lips red
Dare I say the paste is ripe—
Of thickened blood
Of biggened breath—
Your kiss a knife to ankles,
Our teeth unsheathed to tongue.
I never wanted this skin
We share to hurt alongside me;
We lie under pored blankets
Now torn and seeping—
Emotions have been thrust
Upon a canvas to be cleaned and dressed,
Consoled,
We’re dripping.
No, I do not feel taken care of,
But I am glad you care enough
to have tried.
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