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Jul 2020
in this human plant *** i sit
withering away bit by bit
no sunlight here nor in far sight
with such little to my delight

hindered from growth
filled with self-loathe
to who do I call
to bring forth rainfall?

drop by drop I float atop
this human plant *** encasing its crop
I'm drowning amidst what feels to be a drought
of meaningful moments of what I'm without

the *** is now all that remains
in telling a story of one's only gain
in consuming more than is required
in losing yourself to desire.
posted april 20th
Written by
azzan
315
 
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