no one speaks to a drunk,
while the dead sides its own road,
carried pursuits in their pockets,
watches strangers walk through doors.
i was fresh eyed, unclaimed in life,
counting every star i could call mine,
meaning nothing but a pit in the earth.
May 29
May 29, 2026 at 12:48 AM UTC
no one speaks to a drunk,
while the dead sides its own road,
carried pursuits in their pockets,
watches strangers walk through doors.
i was fresh eyed, unclaimed in life,
counting every star i could call mine,
meaning nothing but a pit in the earth.
