My eyes burn with anagrams
and anecdotes.
I am alone but my head
is hosting plenty
telling me to stop,
to go, to change,
to know.
I don't,
because outside the wind whispers
hush.
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 9:43 AM UTC
My eyes burn with anagrams
and anecdotes.
I am alone but my head
is hosting plenty
telling me to stop,
to go, to change,
to know.
I don't,
because outside the wind whispers
hush.
