Friday, 28 June 2019

tree massacre

boiled masks jet-lagged
with anger and the
leaves growing off
my fists are damp;
crowded with fallen
spaces.

there is a spaceship
overcrowding our
growth so we have
nothing to live
for.

abused for a meaningful
awareness of neglect
and strong perfume
off his stagnant
throat.

i am sorry.
but i could
never be your
void of
the space between
us.

i am bold
to lie with you
and lye to you.




granted avalanche

when we arrived  the amulet was damaged and  broke the moments erased. the moment you get out of that. it has left our warped feeling of wha...