Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jul 2021
artistry is vacuous.
acquiescence come after ****,
gotta love it though.
everyone is a judge with
not a care in their heads other
insurrection's growth.

oh ****
no bliss breathing between here
Β Β and seasons forgotten about.

cattle corralled,
antlers on the raw wood, looming.

Iast on the lists, remember?
Ive never felt ok.
rarer with the hellish day,
agog at the god-head
coming apart like a
house on fire, where's the bellows at?

B E Cults
Written by
B E Cults  30/M/hendersonville tn
(30/M/hendersonville tn)   
       KG and Juneau
Please log in to view and add comments on poems