Jun 2014
the moment I met you I ripped a hole through my chest
looking for a beating heart to hand but the cavity was empty.
the wound didn’t seal and turned ghoulish with time, rotting, spreading, like an obsidian cancer.
the wound didn’t seal and turned ghoulish with time, rotting, spreading, like an obsidian cancer.
Blehhhh. Awful. This is the only thing I'd considering salvaging from the mess that that last poem I wrote was.
