Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
AnnaWann Jul 2018
Care is to be spat on
She said
I tried the lacy baby dolls
You bought to pay your ransom
for kidnapped ******* efforts.

So I let her out of the hut. The hut of our love.
Built on guilt and sorry.
I am ravenous
She sais
I swallow like mineshafts
Humans, light,
She likes to think she makes everything better.

Looking after things well does not make them yours
I would like to say
But I don't say anything
How could I know for sure that there is no justice
And how could she know there is
AnnaWann Jul 2018
Picking up wool with your needles
A long straight line  turns into a sweater
The rule is that we move towards the unknown
Or away from it
Which one do you want it to be

Hatred rises from below
Reaching the maximum ability of vague comprehension
It starts and ends in the same moment
I think
I can imagine myself without a final point in this Cosmos
Knitting myself out of
the dimension I was destined for
is futile

All understanding: science,
merchandisable forms of expression,
art, philosophy
manipulates a piece of us but
I am left devastated
No amount of material will make a sweater thick enough
to keep out the universal cold
AnnaWann Jul 2018
Her. Him.
Her team
Burnt him
Her win

Him. Her.
Hint where
Here, there
He'd dare
In her
Him. Self.

— The End —