You hear me perfectly,
with an audibility that even...

It was a twisted, hellish night
and I had no legs to carry me away...

Delirium
is my abysmal...

How I dream of nights like these,
when I knew nothing that was...

You bore the mark of a crusade
upon your heart...

If night were a
compulsion...

The intensity of the air tarries
upon my liable lips...

The name of a child seemed
miniscule at the time when fresh rooms...

While she peers
over my shoulder, and calls you...

Philadelphia skyline is everything but art
when I call for the sun to sink honey...

-
Heavy...

Memory,
a composition of similes...