Wednesday, March 20, 2013


Your memories chain me in hooks of despair
like a fishing rod in the sea of blood
i'm clouded with doubts of me, you and everything we've owned
Unbecoming into units of human mass, which feels like
feces floating in the womb of the universe 

1 comment:

  1. Pity I am partially sighted. I cant see you complete
    Perhaps it is good
    I am forgiven for the UNINTENDED errors