these thoughts sit next to me, soaking in formaldehyde,
as dawn shines blue through the curtains,
illuminating the jar.
these dreams drain in morbid fibers,
shrinking in a vase, glowing weird orange
in the morning blaze.
this dragon's eyes are insane orbs,
its belly is sliced, leaking, quenching
my thirst.
this dissonance
is played on my spinal cord
by a sickly muse.
this nowhere opens my expanse.
Feb 17, 2014
Feb 17, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
these thoughts sit next to me, soaking in formaldehyde,
as dawn shines blue through the curtains,
illuminating the jar.
these dreams drain in morbid fibers,
shrinking in a vase, glowing weird orange
in the morning blaze.
this dragon's eyes are insane orbs,
its belly is sliced, leaking, quenching
my thirst.
this dissonance
is played on my spinal cord
by a sickly muse.
this nowhere opens my expanse.
