a soliloquy of sad,
blackened softness.
you want more
blows to the head: you
crave it, beg for it
"more, more,
more", until
you can't see
how abysmal
everything is:
you want your vision
to go black.
but when the shadows creep
up from behind your eyes and
start covering your hair and skin
in their cold blackness,
you complain of the sting
Mar 3, 2019
Mar 3, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
a soliloquy of sad,
blackened softness.
you want more
blows to the head: you
crave it, beg for it
"more, more,
more", until
you can't see
how abysmal
everything is:
you want your vision
to go black.
but when the shadows creep
up from behind your eyes and
start covering your hair and skin
in their cold blackness,
you complain of the sting
