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Dec 2018
Poetry is a food, a fueler, a filler
Of that emptiness we hope to resolve
Words are a chemistry, a balance, an equation
For nutrition of our nonexisting soul
Words- we take, we bake, we fill
Ourselves too full, we are gluttons
Sticky letters dissolve to
Nonsense,  and hang off our tongue,
Always dripping, never falling
I began this movement, this culinary labratory
Where we mix chemicals together to
Create two-dimensional poisons of ecstacy
Lost in our minds, on our lips, savoring
Every drop-
Xallan
Written by
Xallan  111/Other/Hellas Planitia
(111/Other/Hellas Planitia)   
  1.3k
         Laura, Rockwood, Jean Paul, Butch Decatoria, Jen and 8 others
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