Ends of dependence, Are that remote Remorse, For those alone.
Archive for ‘Art’
Not Me.
Judgement at who you, Cannot accept Is who that you are, Which you will not Admit.
Of All of When.
Understand then, That of all of when I chose now.
The pain always comes.
When I feel The pain That always Comes You do not Understand Who I become.
No.
Take me away You try But will you keep me, Once I die?
Salt in The Sentences.
Why do they ask When talking Means to really Breathe.
Occipital Contagion.
A step within Those eyes Was Their Aftermath And mine Too.
First Light.
Icons in the underbrush, Pulling on the cards And a purchase, On the marsh That endures, On the elbows Of […]
The Wicked Fool.
I was a fool to believe again, To believe at all And always for another, To fight against the end […]
Dry Eyes.
And then, All the Succulents Drowned.
themischiefmemoirs 