Lately, I keep making
grave mistakes...
She began starving long ago
standing alone, frozen from head to toe...
It is Saturday 3:30 a.m.
I think I have thrown up enough...
I thought I had
buried the remaining bitterness...
No chippy claws on wooden floors
No sound of your approach...
Our misunderstandings rapidly evaporate
pressured by quarrels...
Floating in infinite black
Stars are stars...
By forgetting the billions of stars
across the sky...
addiction became
prison where cancer would free...
Change occurs when "damaged"
is labelled crossed my chest...
Oh clerk in black, swinging away with your silent...
the morning grass never stood a chance and it's...
You who laugh at poetry and shy from anarchy,
claiming logic while lurking in shadows...