Many words written of death...

Stone, shadowy edges...

I’m completely overcome with elderly wind...
As fingers intertwined with silver silk and leaves...

I’ve often wondered if the pills are following...
or if they’ve chosen roads less traveled...

I’ve’ forgotten how stones get tossed
After thrashing my mind around secluded ponds...

Fighting urges within my mind
aggressively fighting tears tween brownies...

I've grown seasoned
to the fact that...

I’ve consulted the demons of my past desires
During a night of bloodstained tears...

I feel it in my bones
as life trickles like...

I am nothing without
whispers from the eastern...

I've slumbered in New York,
nestled within a hammock...

Summers drenched
upon sweaty fingers...