Triangle mirrors.
Filthy brown rags.
Blood on the pillows.
Feel me drag.
"Remember who you are" they say.
"Remember who you are" replays.
Through my face.
An infinite swell.
To change its grace.
Would be a coin down the well
Close the windows, cease what's revolting.
Close the windows, cease the molting.
Run away from the human spears.
Run like you have for the past 7 years.
Black curtains grow to cover thy dermis.
Black curtains to thank for serving thy purpose.
Purple, Red, White, Brown.
Colors that inevitable will astound the millions of windows that dwell on thou.
For ceaseless thoughts that will warp thou face.
Self rotting chants are now thine bass.
- Author: Adam Shirley ( Offline)
- Published: June 18th, 2018 18:20
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
Comments1
beautiful write.
Thank you.
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