Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jan 11
time bombarded me wiht its silence today, the sky was closer, birds more transparent. maybe because of the intersection of wonder and scream. once I was one with my wounds. I had thoughts without spin today, only the wounds of the world spinning in the distance. the impossible mixture of blood dust shattered bricks, death is so ignorant, so messy. you used to smile when you saw me eating blueberries naked. in the core of trees there is silence, isn't it? in the core-self there is an emptiness full of antiwords, isn't it?
irinia
Written by
irinia  where East meets West
(where East meets West)   
447
       Jamadhi Verse, Rob Rutledge and irinia
Please log in to view and add comments on poems