Mourning the death of spiders
In a mausoleum made of maggots...
Something's in the corner crouching
- a small child that turns its head revealing its...
No it wasn't my choice or something that I saw
It wasn't on my mind there was nothing there at...
There is an intersection
within my imagination...
When better days turn-in to better nights
I dare not dream for seldom they appear...
A suicide
I stretch the years as long as i can...
My depression has no face,
But, it has a name...
There was a time when the sky was blue,
the air was clear and the dams were full...
Water dribbles past the icy sheath
and pummels sandstone with its shine...
You took it
I let it...
My heart hurts...
not this vessel behind my ribs...
I want to not get upset n over think stuff I want...