and i don't know what to say |
Driving on a dirt road,
the sun, a brazen signal...
I used to prefer
nonexistence...
I don't know how many shots of vodka
I've had, definitely more than two, clear liquid...
I'm tired of people calling me "sad",
using it as an excuse to get too close...
I first saw them at the
bottom of the mountain, consulting...
Ink is my testimony; I pour it out and watch it bubble then boil until it burns my fingertips. |
"Ready for warfare?", my mind antagonizes. |
My heart is sick with grenades. |