This bruise.
This stain.
Dreams, crippled lolly sticks & red puddled ooze on the rocks.
Stop to wonder at the sunset at the cliff’s edge, only to be lulled by aching space.
And jumping before thinking,
Falling before standing,
Landing,
Dead.
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Author:
Mutt Black (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 10th, 2018 14:24
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 7
Offline)
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