Mar 2016
the fog rolls in
a putrid headless thing
trailing its jaw on string
where is the edge of the forest?
mother’s grave
a putrid headless thing
trailing its jaw on string
where is the edge of the forest?
mother’s grave
[i am i am i am]
severed at the neck
dragging the head of a dead deer
screaming
[summer flesh ripe rotting pores in the sun pour water quench the throat fill the rot run the flesh higher stretched pale hollow translucent breath on water lake swings rope frayed death soak the dirt autumn hair twisted wind swept leaves cracked skin cold lips bitter blood burn the sheets burn the sheets burn the sheets burn the sheets]
1:20pm, March 15th 2016
There's a lot of fog.
severed at the neck
dragging the head of a dead deer
screaming
[summer flesh ripe rotting pores in the sun pour water quench the throat fill the rot run the flesh higher stretched pale hollow translucent breath on water lake swings rope frayed death soak the dirt autumn hair twisted wind swept leaves cracked skin cold lips bitter blood burn the sheets burn the sheets burn the sheets burn the sheets]
1:20pm, March 15th 2016
There's a lot of fog.
