a plate of fries
shoes, socks, magnets, bugs & number two pencil
we gravitate through a smile
a push to take us closer
when we get in then we will see

a **** as a street walker
the peril of the night
they hide behind the garb of lust
******

exposed to the elements
a straw to **** it all in
the film on the dross take a napkin
shadows beckoning call
illusion

I have become cumbersome to this world
to my girl
a clock suddenly turns
the outpouring of desolate cries
shades of black torn

fragments are kept in my diary


© 3 days ago, chevyvent    society • love • hope • spiritual