tears roll along
the sills of my eyelids...
There are many things, that I own
Which accumulates over the year...
On moss covered shell
sea gulls peck crustaceans 'til...
Some things burn in open flames,
while others prey on glowing embers...
Vulnerability has left me
Unnerved and palpably...
I regret not killing you.
I could have done it quickly, without a trace...
“The sausage! Get the sausage, please!”
He screamed as he fell on his knees...
On the pavement
a chalk drawing is admired...
You can burn me, use me, cut me down to size,
But that won't make me less than what I already am...
Now, cry! Oh, cry! You silly cat
Or chase that rat under the hat...
you thought it ended,
and that you fell...
adrift | afraid
both apropos to superficially describe whatever...