“They smell your mouth lest you dared to tell...
In perpetuum they flip...
We lived in a jungle
when I was a child...
How beautifully buildings collapse.
How deep their voices are as they die...
There's earthquakes between my
eyes and I can't even knock...
It's not my burden
it's not my responsibility...
Surviving
When no one we feel...
The bitter taste of pain
glossing us...
1
Tomorrow...
…the stand mixer broke a while back, so
we resort to kneading the dough by hand...
It's quiet here with you
when the world outside, and in my mind...
As I close my eyes,
& I start to pray...
october crackles its’ warmth during
the nights. the streetlights illuminate...