I apologise to the God of poetry
that I wasn’t writhing for the right reasons all...
I think therefore you are!
You are, therefore I am...
Time, is as arbitrary as perspective,
the spatial vision...
They just see perspective
for their attention is conditioned...
I imagine us at a state fair,
walking through the crowds...
I hate the nights when I
end up talking to myself in...
Within the home where love once dwelled
An aching void resides...
3 months later, and i
finally shuffled through...
Did the wound exist
as an appetency...
You offered a possibility of reprieve -
of rest I couldn't quite comprehend...
They all rot and fade
these shoots of expectation...
Hell is sediment
Whatever resist burning...