Abora

empty bones

12/5/18 11:26PM

 

the vapid space inside my chest

expands and contracts into my bones

and when i try to take a drink

there’s no impulse

 

the void within me flows out my pores

and i am pockmarked

grotesquely patching

driven by faded beliefs

 

i worship the god park bench

stools iced over

scattering fields like obelisks

the only peace out there

is an empty dog park

 

i try to find the whispers

and i always hear my own

Comments1

  • sylviasearcher

    So beautifully melancholic, it was like a warm drink which numbed my sorrow by tasting just like it



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