Rested your mop of hair
On piles and piles
Of poems old and new
Your mouth running like a faucet
Not yet digested meals and fluids
Your green apple chunks
And what used to be
A Reese's Peanut Buttercup 
Give a new meaning to
The words they are slathered on top of
And underline
The word envy is no longer associated 
With green
But a murky brown and gray
At least, to me
As I pet your head
Hoping to lessen the stream of the 
Undigested 
Blood leaks through the corner 
Flowing with the unsightly current
Highlighting graphite 
Crossing out the errors
All of it