this quiet misery is my paradise, whispers my sick head.
I want to believe its sweet, passionate lies
my head talks with a voice dripping with conviction
it swims and encircles me in its snares
my heart feeds in on itself and reprimands the body
for falling out of line
until
the final piece collapses
and the soul is set free
in whatever way it chooses
May 16, 2018
May 16, 2018 at 12:03 PM UTC
this quiet misery is my paradise, whispers my sick head.
I want to believe its sweet, passionate lies
my head talks with a voice dripping with conviction
it swims and encircles me in its snares
my heart feeds in on itself and reprimands the body
for falling out of line
until
the final piece collapses
and the soul is set free
in whatever way it chooses