Aug 2018
my hollow bones ache from
the crack they breathe
marrow gone dry
nothing left for
the birds of scavenge
ill take these useless bones
and throw them down a hill
wherever they fall
I will divine
the crack they breathe
marrow gone dry
nothing left for
the birds of scavenge
ill take these useless bones
and throw them down a hill
wherever they fall
I will divine
