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"slashing" poems
A flawless red curve of Seductive lips Your bold tongue On the cusp of mine I savor your words Reckless declarations Breathed down my throat Slashing my soul A wound that won’t heal Exposed to the memory of ********** Memories that make it my ruin The way you wrenched my heart Racked my mind Molested my soul The desolation you left me with When you were done I look for Pink To comfort and inspire My emotional essence You will see if you Look into my eyes.
0
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
Pink
In a trance, slashing throats. I'm in a killer mood someone's going to pay for this. All this betray and backstabbing. Pleasure by seeing other people suffering. Stressed out, messed up, ****** up. Killing every living thing as I walk by. Tonight you're all going to pay. Tonight is the end. Suffer!
0
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
Killer mood
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
0
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 6:54 AM UTC
Cruel Inhumane Autocracies
Human directives, veracities unverified   Bellies belching with anger, murderers Udders dripping hate, foundling banters Hunters striking the hungered, unfortunate Glare sight to seek the truth, hold me lets sink Tear motions and debates of inequality My Dafur, the realm of the fur, demise All armed in Sudan, the arid, a battlefield Emergency alarms sirens from 2003 The indefinite complications and hunger A land of the displaced, starving nomads Hear me out in these non-dissolving conflicts Guantanamo bay detention a prison vicious A base for “war in terrorism”, reciprocal laws Inhumane human interrogations persists A breach, a revolt, the hunger riots devolve Force-feeding, torturous measures applied All undressed, humiliated, genitalia exposed A Rwanda slain in divide and rule Civil clashes, mashes, all trashed Swaying war rapes, tapes, the raves Machetes slashing necks and hands A lust of power, a genocide slaughter The Tutsi slewed and unsewn from a patch Autocratic regime boring divisions Territorial ethnic cleansing, a holocaust The oppression of Jews, Romanis, Poles Homosexuals, the disabled and mentally ill Indifference pooled in pits and camps The institutional social indoctrination The honor and killing to expose shame The violation and dishonor of moral fabric For what is “good”, “bad”, fixated moral values Buried waists and head, awaiting stones to hit Confessional secrets of only what lays within A torment watching witnesses, all dangling Marxists calls ships to stow ashore Masses kidnapped, confused in deceit Invalid contracts awaits signatures The white immigrants to be enslaved All aboard, now abroad to revolve labor Wage packages taken to pay for freedom Humans bought and sold to be owned Slaves yorked and counted as assets Bounded to serve plantations and homes A human, non human, a chattel, a slave A debt ******* offended and ***** Untamed and made to obey a master A falling global strings unturned Tunes strumming hate, war and pain Human trafficking, violence, inequality Child abuse, civil conflicts, capitalists Commercialism, zero hour contracts For if we have no rights, I have none For if we have no peace I have none
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55
we had a real conversation for once about your ptsd you told me you remember 100% every guy you ever killed and you went to iraq... you told me stories what it was like when you got back... about waking up from a night terror slashing your pillows with a knife about another guy who almost strangled his wife you told me all the reasons you can't sleep i wanted to lay my head on your chest but i didn't
0
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 2:28 AM UTC
conversations with ptsd
***Night came and conquered my ceiling Head tilted back to inherit it's familiar splendour. But she isn't there... Left my heart slightly gaping. O twinkly one, have you seen her?*** *She's mysteriously veiled tonight, Playfully on her halo, dances gentle light. Don't give up on her, listless moongazer, She wants to be conquered, put up a good fight.* ***Persistent skirmish that sets dreams and reality apart, Eyes don't see what the heart knows so clear, Clarity eludes when forgotten scars start to smart, Do you know if she even realises I'm here?*** *She knows, and dreams of your happy eyes, That only her will hold on their feverish gaze. Unbroken threads of hope, your yearning to baptize And her ice cold craters to be set ablaze.* ***Fire in my vessel still burns bright and strong, Never extinguished behind the facade of my weary husk, My flame would endure just as the wick is long, Tell me dear star, will I see her next dusk?*** *When the sun's swords will seize, slashing the sky in dazzling blue, When the air will bring a comforting ease, Her glistening "yes" will welcome you.* ***Your comforting words ring only of truth, Winking in codes, you might be right . Darkness had claimed and engulfed all proof, Will you accompany me through tonight?*** *This piercing question you don't have to ask me, For even though my light's billion of years away, Twinkling in your dreams I'll always be, The night companion, under your moon's ray.* ryn Dajena M
0
Mar 1, 2015
Mar 1, 2015 at 10:29 AM UTC
Dialogue with a Star
It was a dark night, rain slashing through it, Trying to cut the windowpane, When your demons escaped from the cage. They tied you up and burned you on a stake. The fire licked you up and devoured you, They thought they have destroyed you at last. But your soul is a phoenix, and it sprung back up from the ash.
0
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:41 PM UTC
Phoenix Soul
in the middle of nirvana, ashima wakes up she doesn't know how she reached this sphere full of silver lights and black silhouettes everyone she knows seems to be present greyly shimmering leaflets are floating through the air, gently, like mist and red fireflies are clapping their wings the crowd of shadows is starting to sing: "ashima, you have come a long way to us we are the voices of nirvana, listen nirvana is the deep core of your soul the land of your most secret wishes sometimes, in your dreams, you reach out when you are waiting for a train and the rays of the sun are reflecting your thoughts you never find us but we know where you are you may call us your wishes, we belong to you as **** as branko and your mom do are you the imitation of your dreams, ashima? or do your dreams imitate you, our girl? certainly, you will become the thing you dread we know that you took revenge recently when you were slashing the pedophile's throat as his blood was slowly flowing into the sheets" in the middle of her apartment, ashima wakes up she becomes aware of a crinkled and dark leaflet it is more than twenty years old, informing about something that ashima can not read anymore the letters on the leaflet have become dust ashima is taking a deep breath and sighs her pitbull branko is strolling towards her his wet tongue, ashima thinks, feels cute
0
Jan 30, 2021
Jan 30, 2021 at 11:04 AM UTC
Ashima's Wishes
"Tell me gorgeous," He said with his finger under her soft chin "What are you looking at?" She looked at his face. He could tell she wasn't seeing his face. She knew she wasn't. "Well," She started to say to stall him. She knew what she was seeing. She wasn't sure if she should tell him. "Well," She said again. "Yes gorgeous?" He said patiently. She thought about what she wanted to say. *i don't see you. I don't see you. I don't see your black hair. But his light brown ***** blonde hair. I don't see you. I don't see your brown eyes I once drooled over. I see his eyes. The maybe blue eyes that stole my heart. I don't see your tan complexion but his reddened one. i see him. I don't see you and I never will again.* "Well," She said again. He moved his hand to the back of her neck. He stepped closer. He stared into her eyes. "Gorgeous tell me. Tell me please." She closed her eyes. And suddenly she felt his lips against hers. She opened her eyes surprised. She remembered the way his lips felt. But she didn't want to remember. She pulled away. He looked hurt. And suddenly Real fast Everything Poured Out Of Her Normally Silent Mouth "I don't see you when I look at you anymore. You know I don't. You can tell. You know you've hurt me a thousand times. You know you've pushed me down. You know you've left a scar so deep It will Never fade. So why are you here? Calling me gorgeous? When you know you have no right to." He looked even more hurt. And suddenly very angry. She knew he felt guilty. She knew she was right. He let go of her neck and raised a hand behind his head. She looked at him her eyes widening and before she got the chance to run, his hand slapped hard against her cheek. Slashing it open. She lay on the warm grass. Holding her face. She looked up at him. And now his emotion was scared. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Tears fell softly onto the grass. Soon she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped ready to run. "Shh it's just me," She saw the boy with the light brown ***** blonde hair. And the maybe blue eyes. And the reddish complexion. She relaxed as he pulled her into his arms. She smelt his sweet scent. And let him dab the blood away. "I'll always love you. You never have to worry. I'll always be here. You don't have to doubt it. I'll always protect you. You should always remember that" She smiled and closed her eyes. She heard the boy with the black hair stomp across the grass. She heard a car door slam. She heard an engine roar. And then she heard wheels squeal. And like that, He was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. And forever, The boy with the maybe blue eyes, Was here. Here. Here. Here.
0
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
Gorgeous
"Tell me gorgeous," He said with his finger under her soft chin "What are you looking at?" She looked at his face. He could tell she wasn't seeing his face. She knew she wasn't. "Well," She started to say to stall him. She knew what she was seeing. She wasn't sure if she should tell him. "Well," She said again. "Yes gorgeous?" He said patiently. She thought about what she wanted to say. *i don't see you. I don't see you. I don't see your black hair. But his light brown ***** blonde hair. I don't see you. I don't see your brown eyes I once drooled over. I see his eyes. The maybe blue eyes that stole my heart. I don't see your tan complexion but his reddened one. i see him. I don't see you and I never will again.* "Well," She said again. He moved his hand to the back of her neck. He stepped closer. He stared into her eyes. "Gorgeous tell me. Tell me please." She closed her eyes. And suddenly she felt his lips against hers. She opened her eyes surprised. She remembered the way his lips felt. But she didn't want to remember. She pulled away. He looked hurt. And suddenly Real fast Everything Poured Out Of Her Normally Silent Mouth "I don't see you when I look at you anymore. You know I don't. You can tell. You know you've hurt me a thousand times. You know you've pushed me down. You know you've left a scar so deep It will Never fade. So why are you here? Calling me gorgeous? When you know you have no right to." He looked even more hurt. And suddenly very angry. She knew he felt guilty. She knew she was right. He let go of her neck and raised a hand behind his head. She looked at him her eyes widening and before she got the chance to run, his hand slapped hard against her cheek. Slashing it open. She lay on the warm grass. Holding her face. She looked up at him. And now his emotion was scared. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Tears fell softly onto the grass. Soon she felt a hand on her shoulder. She jumped ready to run. "Shh it's just me," She saw the boy with the light brown ***** blonde hair. And the maybe blue eyes. And the reddish complexion. She relaxed as he pulled her into his arms. She smelt his sweet scent. And let him dab the blood away. "I'll always love you. You never have to worry. I'll always be here. You don't have to doubt it. I'll always protect you. You should always remember that" She smiled and closed her eyes. She heard the boy with the black hair stomp across the grass. She heard a car door slam. She heard an engine roar. And then she heard wheels squeal. And like that, He was gone. Gone. Gone. Gone. And forever, The boy with the maybe blue eyes, Was here. Here. Here. Here.
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78
I tried Slashing the wrists of poverty With an EBT swipe But he isn’t merely food stamps He is needle He is malt Licker of oppressed ******** ****** dreams Fellatio’d by sored gums
0
Mar 29, 2013
Mar 29, 2013 at 4:39 PM UTC
poverty
words fall like hapless fledglings tossed from a cliff edged nest with much screeching, squawking, countless feathers lost and then an awful thump or hopeful, glorious flight first love is tachycardiac love all adrenaline, sweating palms and stutter-stumbling sqeakings, ungainly gropings, when not with you, mopings unrealistic hopings for happy ever after endings, breakings, bendings, awkward mendings, repeated leavings, repented lovings. heartfelt givings, of broken hearted rendings. lendings, of time stolen from life tearing, teasing, tantalising teamings crying, begging, pleading strife and then, the metaphorical knife cutting, slashing, wordblow bashing, screaming, reaming, end to loves life. til eventually, words fall, like old birds leavings to settle, unremarked upon at the base of the tree of life. first love's loss, is slow dying. arrhythmia to flatline in a multitude of laboured breaths and long lingering sighs. a loss of warmth, from breast and thighs and water copious, falling from red rimed eyes. sobbing, murmuring, don't know whys? from lips turned toward, bleakset skies. as one settles firmly, into black dog muck no longer able to give a f▼ck. tucked in tight to sadness, lost all sight of former gladness, caught up and shackled tight, to the badness around and around, the carousel goes. then, at last, the blessed silence, as you die one of many of....                     life's little deaths
0
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 8:25 PM UTC
the lovebirds cycle
You say, “Stillness is the goal.” I’d like to know who YOU is When you’re driving round the block dodging love, in her bed, ****** her head.. & still your mind’s like a gentle stream & you pretend like you ain’t mean But boy, you’re a dancing devil slashing through a peaceful field you thrive off her destruction.
0
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 12:03 AM UTC
Untitled
I've never felt a red rose, never pricked myself on a thorn, never smelled it in or got lost in eyes. My mother has a red rose -- my father gave it to her, and it is beautiful, and it is kind, and it is loving, and it is something I have  never  seen. This  pink  rose  is  something  trying  too  hard to be red. Slashing and  ripping  at clothes  with  sharpened  words, claiming it’s  merely  the  thorns  of a red. This pungency is blamed upon  me:  I can  not  handle  the  sickly sweet succor stuck under my  suffocating  nose. He holds  me by the chin, condemning eyes borrowing into mine, grip   tightening. This pink rose is dead, withered, wilted and weathered by the storm we’re caught in. Everyone sees  red  where there is none --  o r   p e r h a p s   t h a t ’ s   j u s t   t h e   b l o o d  ?  -- this pink rose has me trembling,  fearing his appearance and his eyes; knowing he’s   stronger   than   me,   but   the uncertainty of “would he?” scares me more. I can’t leave because that same knife he used upon me, he threatens his own skin. It’s such  a  small world, such  a  small town, such a small neighborhood, such a small building. I can’t walk these  halls with  comfort  or  safety anymore, not with those eyes burning blame into my    back    and    face.
0
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 10:28 AM UTC
Pink Rose
tues. exhausted piano teeth mozart pere gnashing slashing sound barrier stretching zoology beyond the bird cannibals in the a-z azimuth weds. mirage of red awnings all-night resort cannibals in the azimuth stairwell décor thurs. cold as leprosy embraced yet somehow curled fri. frail departure voice to **** height hair duck drake cold as geology young rocks flame (hidden within the blink of eye)
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4.9k
séance without a ghost
I’m just a more miserable version of myself and my pen is my weapon that it uses, Leaking out the gas I consume and fogging the paper with words of death. It carves out my pain to a permanent grave, doing the bleeding for me, slashing across the page; ink runs, tears run, but I can’t run.
0
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 9:03 PM UTC
ink
a shooting star is born from the bleakness of the heavenly spheres racing to earth the flashing streak sears a burning path across the sky at dazzling speed it accelerates, slashing the porous atmosphere like a laser bolt from Zeus's own hand then evaporates into the nothingness of the midnight sky the universe remains little changed from its advent and passing Charlie Parker: Star Eyes jbm Catskills, NY 8/88
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Jun 2, 2013
Jun 2, 2013 at 10:30 PM UTC
Shooting Star
I laid the body wounded from war, marking the pain of bleeding scar, they drip no blood but crying word, scream of whys is all can be heard. This warrior fought without a gun, the sword was laid on the ground. Flew in the war without a shield, embracing the fires of the field. The warzone is silent and cold, daylight is starting to fold, omitted gore has no trace, but agony and pain mantled the face. Alone, the warrior stood with yielding feet, the armored belligerent took their seat. They watched this warrior drown with tears, their laughter bit the bleeding ears. The archenemies took off their casque, these are faces of the warrior's past. Hopelessly he fell on his knee, looking at the grinning enemies. Armored with the sharpest sword, strengthen by their greatest lord. They rumbled drums with deafening sound, plotting the line of the warrior's bound. The warrior faced the strongest foes, murmur of vicious wind starts to blow. No armor can block the slashing assaults, as these are words comes like a lighting bolt. Words stabs deeper than a pointed knife, blotching doubt in warrior's life. Painted the warzone with unwanted shade, every glimpse of light starts to fade. The warrior with no hope to win, carried darkness with tattered skin. You can't win against yourself, they will reveal voices left in the shelf. The warrior dwelled in the cold and dark cell, fall of the tears in every hit of the bell. Tired of the biting lullabies marching like a band. The white flag was raised with trembling hand.
0
Jul 29, 2020
Jul 29, 2020 at 10:52 AM UTC
Silent war
I laid the body wounded from war, marking the pain of bleeding scar, they drip no blood but crying word, scream of whys is all can be heard. This warrior fought without a gun, the sword was laid on the ground. Flew in the war without a shield, embracing the fires of the field. The warzone is silent and cold, daylight is starting to fold, omitted gore has no trace, but agony and pain mantled the face. Alone, the warrior stood with yielding feet, the armored belligerent took their seat. They watched this warrior drown with tears, their laughter bit the bleeding ears. The archenemies took off their casque, these are faces of the warrior's past. Hopelessly he fell on his knee, looking at the grinning enemies. Armored with the sharpest sword, strengthen by their greatest lord. They rumbled drums with deafening sound, plotting the line of the warrior's bound. The warrior faced the strongest foes, murmur of vicious wind starts to blow. No armor can block the slashing assaults, as these are words comes like a lighting bolt. Words stabs deeper than a pointed knife, blotching doubt in warrior's life. Painted the warzone with unwanted shade, every glimpse of light starts to fade. The warrior with no hope to win, carried darkness with tattered skin. You can't win against yourself, they will reveal voices left in the shelf. The warrior dwelled in the cold and dark cell, fall of the tears in every hit of the bell. Tired of the biting lullabies marching like a band. The white flag was raised with trembling hand.
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40
Late April and only coltsfoot—Tussilago farfara—breaking leaf litter. Our daffodils, peonies and crocuses are also making signs. April is the cruelest month, I forget why. A sweet slow Spring no sudden changes each leg and leaf unfolds deliberately. You can't miss it. New York City's spring rushes like a yellow cab into summer. One day leaves are wet, next they’re leather. I prefer this slow dance, birds mating on the sky, peepers evolving into frogs. Repairs take weeks or months. Septic, garage door, cracked windshield, clean windows, build bridge, buy land, rake leaves off erosion control, cut wood, prune lilac, paint lawn chairs. More carefully inspect, identify, the insect of the week, a fly with an ant’s body that skirts the grass and falls in drinks. Look more closely! It will be gone in a few days! Then it will be the time of moths or fireflies, mosquitoes and wasps. Mud road, red-winged blackbird. The slashing stream topples old trees. My legs hurt.
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May 23, 2022
May 23, 2022 at 6:17 AM UTC
Million Dollar Movie
Why can the past not be forgotten? Why does it creep in the night, Searching and slithering like a shadow in the dark? An endless cycle of memories I only long to forget. An endless storm inside my mind, Eroding away the barriers to my sanity. "What will you have me do?" "A bargain? A truce? What do you long for?" Taunting and absurd, the voice echoes in my thoughts, Like waves crashing upon the sandy shore. "An end to the torment you lay upon me!" "A torment lain upon yourself." Slashing, booming, clawing, banging, hashing, Destroying everything in the recesses of my mind. Terror, horror, uncontrollable, and unrelenting, A flood breaks through the gates at the sight of him. "There is no bargain or truce to be made, It will only end when you are nothing but a shell." Despair, longing...guilt. Why?
0
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:01 AM UTC
Why?
Naked and fierce, Burning with anger, Stands the Goddess, Great is her hunger. Machete in her hands, Slashing at her will, She knows no bounds, And runs around to **** She can't recognise, Sinner or saint, In her mission to **** the evils, She has lost her restraint. And then she steps on something, What is it? She looks below, To her horror she finds her Lord, Supine, lying beneath her toe. Great is her shame at what she sees, In her great fury she had spared none, It needed Lord Shiva to stop her rage, She bites her tongue at what she has done. And thus we know the great Maa Kali, Ashamed, repentant for being blindly furious She stands for the two sides in ourselves, With the good trying to rule the evil in us. So every year we worship her, Each year we pay her our homages, And this is how "Kali Puja", Goes on and on for ages.
0
Nov 10, 2015
Nov 10, 2015 at 11:31 AM UTC
Goddess Kali Maa's Pujaa (Kaali Pujo)
a polar vortex swirls eastward on Siberian Tiger paws bounding over Appalachian Highlands gobbling geography gelling Great Lakes spawning Erie blizzards sculpting Wabash ice floes clogging commerce all along the Ohio River Valley this voracious juggernaut’s wide maw bears icicle teeth laughing as it swallows Pittsburgh, Little Philly, and a Big Apple, before gorging itself on generous portions ladled into simmering crocks of steaming Boston Baked Beans growling blue arctic air blasts roar bursts pipes savages the heat of blasting furnaces, bubbling boilers, hot belly stoves frantically drinking oil, flaming gas burning wood and burping soot the blistering jet stream claws screech a slashing stratospheric hum as Frigidaire blasts swallows breath brittles limbs chafes cheeks gnaws earlobes crystallizes tears nibbles nostrils cubes snot numbs toes bites digits diving sub zero gradient subdues batteries to deaden states delays buses derails trains cuts power constricts veins preys on vagabonds and animals get the homeless off the street! bring the animals in check on your elderly neighbors don’t get caught outside and shut the **** door! do you own stock in the Public Service? beware the polar vortex and next months heating bill Sonny Boy Williamson & Otis Spann Nine Below Zero Oakland 1/6/14 jbm
0
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 2:43 PM UTC
Polar Vortex
Five for fighting hands to the face personal foul player disgrace Illegal contact leap in the fray willful head shot leg astray Encroachment defense mouth guard out roughing the passer back field bout Grounding the pigskin mis-aligned horse collar tackle clip from behind Knee on knee offside end unnecessary roughness too many men Gross misconduct poke in the eye hooking the shooter sticks up high Match ejection over the top face off folly penalty shot Unsportsmanlike conduct chopping the block slew foot infraction hammer lock Stick to the head kick in the crotch **** end jab adhering the watch Slashing the d-man spearing the wing running the keeper back checking Intentional grounding stoppage in play punching and hacking delay of the game Striking the ref aggressor in fight obstructing the line out ear in a bite Loss of downs hands in the ruck pinching and boarding illegal upchuck Rules of the battle by the bye pushing the limits with a wink of an eye
0
May 10, 2017
May 10, 2017 at 9:24 PM UTC
The Sin Bin
*Let loneliness' tears explode and be transformed into thousand moaning stars tonight, As... My universe whips with meteors...                                                      Slashing the earth's flesh,  with scorching ***** of fire. My universe cries an august rain...                                               Leaving the earth in deep waters,                     breathless,  it won't survive. My universe hurls hails...                                                   Crashing the earth's face. My universe whispers comets...                                           Making the earth sigh with fiery passion. My universe frets in pain...                                                  Deafening sound echoes                                                                      in earth's hollow station. That... My universe in my arms is collapsing...                                                    And I, the earth, am dying with him.*
0
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 10:53 AM UTC
My Universe