unweathered
don't leave me behind
in the trenches, I am still a man standing
fire no armament
my pupils just began dilating
unfretted
strum, strum, strum, harder
reverberations so cautious of contraception
within squares of damage
slipping in and out of submission
unprecedented
polygamy is not such a bad option
if you consider loneliness
exploring genders without being adulterous
you won't be one with the growing fungus
unthought
just a dream,
that penetrated the bounds of real
even so, never was I beautiful
even so, I was the one to kneel
undone
once, I remember writing about
her becoming undone, for the con?
left no coherence,
till her chest was glowing neon
un
un
unborn
without a cause.
1 comment:
My feet are suffering from trench rot.
Suggestions?
Post a Comment