windows crack with the brazen sounds
street signs seem to be bottled up into
enormous knots that scream at
my eyes
the snow shouts as it passes my face
my body, my hair
my joints burn with
every single
movement
the world is in a fog
that doesn't inhibit vision but
painfully overexposes vision
everything is a
tantrum
my Krebs Cycle
vomits bile
and
i can't stand the sound of the
porcelain or the feel of this
morning
devastated again
just thinking about how
i've wasted
~Paranoia has treated me well.
Love,
Digress.
No comments:
Post a Comment