buried in my chest, a young lass sleeps
warm and safe in her haven.
not a thought goes towards her action.
she's merely a figure i created;
to convince myself she exists.
note the way her breathing
differs with the seasons.
now she's silent,
but soon she'll be screaming;
the influence of my vituperation.
May 22, 2012
May 22, 2012 at 4:09 PM UTC
buried in my chest, a young lass sleeps
warm and safe in her haven.
not a thought goes towards her action.
she's merely a figure i created;
to convince myself she exists.
note the way her breathing
differs with the seasons.
now she's silent,
but soon she'll be screaming;
the influence of my vituperation.
