I hate you like the hoarse, dry throated cockeral hates the rise of morning sun. A hatred that repeats itself over and over with closed eyelids. It is a strange emotion to hate with hope, as all creatures do that something miraculous will emerge from the same, tired nothingness. A foundation built on what if's and maybe's. when in reality everything always repeats, always.
Jun 2, 2021
Jun 2, 2021 at 7:51 PM UTC
I hate you like the hoarse, dry throated cockeral hates the rise of morning sun. A hatred that repeats itself over and over with closed eyelids. It is a strange emotion to hate with hope, as all creatures do that something miraculous will emerge from the same, tired nothingness. A foundation built on what if's and maybe's. when in reality everything always repeats, always.