I crave,
for the norwegian woods
and the austere darkness of dawn,
for the anguish cracking your skin,
every time you try to smile.
your deep and shallow beings
merged into a chaotic ball
of disgust and tenderness,
excites me;
but I can only envision
a false memory of your touch
-electrifying as a death-like trance-
your dead eyes look right through my skull:
you shudder,
as you've uncovered the shadow of a dying woman,
and she indeed is,
the nihilistic lull of a catastrophe.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 5:39 AM UTC
I crave,
for the norwegian woods
and the austere darkness of dawn,
for the anguish cracking your skin,
every time you try to smile.
your deep and shallow beings
merged into a chaotic ball
of disgust and tenderness,
excites me;
but I can only envision
a false memory of your touch
-electrifying as a death-like trance-
your dead eyes look right through my skull:
you shudder,
as you've uncovered the shadow of a dying woman,
and she indeed is,
the nihilistic lull of a catastrophe.
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