"inebriatrix" poems
Maximum distortion, ecstasy is agony.
I seldomly love what isn't bad for me.
A tragedy
I'm glad to be.
A blasphemy
I'm sad to see.
I fear it's happening.
Darkness gathering.
Am I imagining?
A flash of me.
It has to be.
Gradually
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 9:37 PM UTC