A shelter for the insects to fester.
A refuge for rotting dreams.
A being with no identity.
A splint within reality
I want to harbor in.
A dying fire buried
under ash that can still burn.
I want to touch and know
what it means to feel.
I hope to reincarnate
the other piece of my soul
Before this body is dust.
Aug 10, 2019
Aug 10, 2019 at 12:45 PM UTC
A shelter for the insects to fester.
A refuge for rotting dreams.
A being with no identity.
A splint within reality
I want to harbor in.
A dying fire buried
under ash that can still burn.
I want to touch and know
what it means to feel.
I hope to reincarnate
the other piece of my soul
Before this body is dust.
