"wretches" poems
As this world wretches behind the piles of our institutional bones, I turn to look the other way.
When the beggars graze my pant leg, I don't stop mid stride and feign over their disparity,
For gaining the holy marksmen’s approval. When Judas kissed sanctity’s cheek beside the frames of broken-hearted men, I shook the feeling from my sleeve.
And I no longer feel guilt, shame,
Out of mere cerebral obligation.
So, have me for a worthless sinner. I will fall to the dust before I bring myself to stand beside the husks of humanity that so many have become; spewing their filth on unfortunate blindfolded men, expecting me to follow suit.
Well, **** off, kindly.
I’m living for the god that answers to no titles, and parsonages none of these black suited scumbags. I’m living for the god that inspires harmony, and lifts my fingers to dance for liberation, and pleasure, and hopeless longing. I’m living for the god of progress who shakes pieces of enlightenment from his gray beard, and swallows up the offerings of his every wounded child.
I’m living for the god of no religion,
Never saying
“God,”
For this name is tainted by old customs.
Cheapened by the misguided nature of man.
May 29, 2012
May 29, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
[Dedicated to Austin Osman Spare]
Have pity ! show no pity !
Those eyes that send such shivers
Into my brain and spine : oh let them
Flame like the ancient city
Swallowed up by the sulphurous rivers
When men let angels fret them !
Yea ! let the south wind blow,
And the Turkish banner advance,
And the word go out : No quarter !
But I shall hod thee -so !
While the boys and maidens dance
About the shambles of slaughter !
I know thee who thou art,
The inmost fiend that curlest
Thy vampire tounge about
Earth's corybantic heart,
Hell's warrior that whirlest
The darts of horror and doubt !
Thou knowest me who I am
The inmost soul and saviour
Of man ; what hieroglyph
Of the dragon and the lamb
Shall thou and I engrave here
On Time's inscandescable cliff ?
Look ! in the plished granite,
Black as thy cartouche is with sins,
I read the searing sentence
That blasts the eyes that scan it :
**** and SET be TWINS."
A fico for repentance !
Ay ! O Son of my mother
That snarled and clawed in her womb
As now we rave in our rapture,
I know thee, I love thee, brother !
Incestuous males that consumes
The light and the life that we capture.
Starve thou the soul of the world,
Brother, as I the body !
Shall we not glut our lust
On these wretches whom Fate hath hurled
To a hell of jesus and shoddy,
Dung and ethics and dust ?
Thou as I art Fate.
Coe then, conquer and kiss me !
Come ! what hinders? Believe me :
This is the thought we await.
The mark is fair ; can you miss me ?
See, how subtly I writhe !
Strange runes and unknown sigils
I trace in the trance that thrills us.
Death ! how lithe, how blithe
Are these male incestuous vigils !
Ah ! this is the spasm that kills us !
Wherefore I solemnly affirm
This twofold Oneness at the term.
Asar on Asi did beget
Horus twin brother unto Set.
Now Set and Horus kiss, to call
The Soul of the Unnatural
Forth from the dusk ; then nature slain
Lets the Beyond be born again.
This weird is of the tongue of Khem,
The Conjuration used of them.
Whoso shall speak it, let him die,
His bowels rotting inwardly,
Save he uncover and caress
The God that lighteth his liesse.
6k
"Don't stop dreaming" crooned a voice in my ear
But dreaming re-enforces fear
Slumber comes and shreds my thoughts
Subconscious wars are brought and wrought.
Inside my skull holds evidence of
Bruised purples and nightmare reds
Sleep shreds my mind between its teeth
And wretches it across; bequeath
Across the walls, across the room
Across the shadows, through the gloom
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 5:22 PM UTC
Sailors we're not, but here our souls roam
Beneath the cold seas, and the waves and the foam
We inherit the depths of the oceans and sea
Never to know of just what we could be
We are the dead, lying down in the dark
Our stories forgotten, our history stark
We're not in one place, we live where we went down
Not a monument stands for most in our towns
We went down in rought seas, in a storm or a battle
We died taking a trip or transporting our cattle
There's as many of us as there are in the earth
We've been taken at sea, since man first did give birth
Our souls walk the floor of the deepest dark places
No one knows who we are, not our names or our faces
We ended our lives on ships , sloops and on ketches
We are the dead, some rich, some poor wretches
We never will age, never again will see light
We're still waiting for more to join us in the night
The seas give us life and they take just as fast
It's a tomb for us all, it's where our breaths were our last
Unsinkable ships...fifteen hundred or more
Lost their lives to the ice just like many before
The water cares not, your soul's there to take
Whether ocean or sea, or on river or lake
We walk in the depths, beneath the lighthouse and rocks
Our home is the cold, down below all the docks
We lie just off the shore, we died within reach
Some of us drowned just a bit from the beach
The sea's a cruel master, it owns all who sail
It cares not one bit, who you are or your tale
Stories mean nothing to those down below
For when it is time, to the locker you'll go
We died fighting pirates, we gave up our lives
We left our young children, our husbands and wives
From the Cape of Good Hope to the cold northern seas
Where we were still alive as our bodies did freeze
In the Indian Ocean and off the Newfoundland coast
Some nights you might see us, in the fog...just a ghost
We're the ones who inhabit the dark of the seas
When you hear the wind howling, you are hearing our pleas
Don't forget who we were, when we lived and we died
Please remember the families who broke down and did cry
There are fish in the ocean, but we live here too
We're the lost souls of people who died on the blue
Sailors we're not, but the water's our home
Down in the dark waters beneath the waves and the foam.
Apr 29, 2012
Apr 29, 2012 at 9:48 AM UTC
Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll!—a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river.
And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?—weep now or never more!
See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!
Come! let the burial rite be read—the funeral song be sung!—
An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young—
A dirge for her, the doubly dead in that she died so young.
“Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride,
And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her—that she died!
How shall the ritual, then, be read?—the requiem how be sung
By you—by yours, the evil eye,—by yours, the slanderous tongue
That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?”
Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song
Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong!
The sweet Lenore hath “gone before,” with Hope, that flew beside,
Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been thy bride—
For her, the fair and debonnaire, that now so lowly lies,
The life upon her yellow hair but not within her eyes—
The life still there, upon her hair—the death upon her eyes.
“Avaunt! to-night my heart is light. No dirge will I upraise,
But waft the angel on her flight with a paean of old days!
Let no bell toll!—lest her sweet soul, amid its hallowed mirth,
Should catch the note, as it doth float up from the ****** Earth.
To friends above, from fiends below, the indignant ghost is riven—
From Hell unto a high estate far up within the Heaven—
From grief and groan to a golden throne beside the King of Heaven.”
3.1k
My breathing becomes erratic and warm blood rushes to the tips of my ears as I remember you. You showed me the world from a clean, glass window. For a while, it was amazing. The view was impeccable and there wasn't a single flaw. But day after day of staring through that clean, glass window I began to panic. The window wouldn't let me break through, let me be free. You kept me under wraps and hid me from a world of untamable beauty and free spirited inhabitants. The clean, glass window was warped with your tainted perspective on a perfect world. I couldn't breathe around you, I was a fish out of water and you didn't mind. As I flailed around, you chuckled and said "it's okay." But it's not okay and you cause me nothing but heart murmurs and not the butterflies in my stomach type. The type that wretches my gut. You did nothing but hurt me when all I ever did was love you.
Jul 1, 2014
Jul 1, 2014 at 3:01 AM UTC
We'd found an old Boche dug-out, and he knew,
And gave us hell, for shell on frantic shell
Hammered on top, but never quite burst through.
Rain, guttering down in waterfalls of slime,
Kept slush waist-high and rising hour by hour,
And choked the steps too thick with clay to climb.
What murk of air remained stank old, and sour
With fumes of whizz-bangs, and the smell of men
Who'd lived there years, and left their curse in the den,
If not their corpses...
There we herded from the blast
Of whizz-bangs, but one found our door at last,
Buffeting eyes and breath, snuffing the candles,
And thud! flump! thud! down the steep steps came thumping
And sploshing in the flood, deluging muck -
The sentry's body; then his rifle, handles
Of old Boche bombs, and mud in ruck on ruck.
We dredged him up, for killed, until he whined
'O sir, my eyes - I'm blind, - I'm blind, I'm blind!'
Coaxing, I held a flame against his lids
And said if he could see the least blurred light
He was not blind; in time he'd get all right.
'I can't' he sobbed. Eyeballs, huge-bulged like squids',
Watch my dreams still; but I forgot him there
In posting Next for duty, and sending a scout
To beg a stretcher somewhere, and flound'ring about
To other posts under the shrieking air.
* * *
Those other wretches, how they bled and spewed,
And one who would have drowned himself for good, -
I try not to remember these things now.
Let dread hark back for one word only: how
Half-listening to that sentry's moans and jumps,
And the wild chattering of his broken teeth,
Renewed most horribly whenever crumps
Pummelled the roof and slogged the air beneath, -
Through the dense din, I say, we heard him shout
'I see your lights!' But ours had long died out.
2.5k
Everyone dies
Story’s always the same
I just wish I could tell it
Some new, different way
To revivify life
With a vivid description
Instead of this atmosphere’s
Toxic constriction
Malnourishment kitchen
An infant mortality
Failure to listen
To self-absorbed, carbon-based
Standard emission
Way passed overfishin’
For likes on the social de-human condition
Automaton autobahn
Trickle down neocon
For-profit prison bomb
Boomin’ like radical
Islamic martyrdom
Unemployed masses
Of back of the classes
The masking of innocent
Voices in ashes
An **** of power
And greed wretches *****
Mother Earth out to fuel
Their big engines of war
An insatiable thirst for more
Curdled blood screams
As I rot to the Corps
Of America’s Dreams
Jul 17, 2018
Jul 17, 2018 at 4:13 PM UTC
(Judges, vi.25)
Jesus! whose blood so freely stream'd
To satisfy the law's demand;
By Thee from guilt and wrath redeem'd,
Before the Father's face I stand.
To reconcile offending man,
Make Justice drop her angry rod;
What creature could have form'd the plan,
Or who fulfil it but a God?
No drop remains of all the curse,
For wretches who deserved the whole;
No arrows dipt in wrath to pierce
The guilty, but returning soul.
Peace by such means so dearly bought,
What rebel could have hoped to see?
Peace by his injured Sovereign wrought,
His Sovereign fasten'd to a tree.
Now, Lord, Thy feeble worm prepare!
For strife with earth and hell begins;
Conform and gird me for the war;
They hate the soul that hates his sins.
Let them in horrid league agree!
They may assault, they may distress;
But cannot quench Thy love to me,
Nor rob me of the Lord my peace.
2.3k
We've seen the Angel of Death
Coerced- his hands we become
His hollow countenance, our own
So many numbered wretches
Disguised as hollow drones
Stalk the night
Fighting non-existent thrones
The empty expression, brow bent in deep thought
The humans we used to be
A garden of seedlings in desperate need
The tide rises quickly
These ideas can save us
Or they can tear us apart
Once we've destroyed the concept
Of the celebrated self and love of art
We can begin the process of growing up
Completely spent
We bit the apple, bought the lie
Exploited the poor and boy did we rise
We snapped those necks and boy did we thrive
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 4:35 PM UTC
I, too, saw God through mud, -
The mud that cracked on cheeks when wretches smiled.
War brought more glory to their eyes than blood,
And gave their laughs more glee than shakes a child.
Merry it was to laugh there -
Where death becomes absurd and life absurder.
For power was on us as we slashed bones bare
Not to feel sickness or remorse of ******
I, too, have dropped off Fear -
Behind the barrage, dead as my platoon,
And sailed my spirit surging light and clear
Past the entanglement where hopes lay strewn;
And witnessed exultation -
Faces that used to curse me, scowl for scowl,
Shine and lift up with passion of oblation,
Seraphic for an hour; though they were foul.
I have made fellowships -
Untold of happy lovers in old song.
For love is not the binding of fair lips
With the soft silk of eyes that look and long,
By Joy, whose ribbon slips, -
But wound with war's hard wire whose stakes are strong;
Bound with the bandage of the arm that drips;
Knit in the webbing of the rifle-thong.
I have perceived much beauty
In the hoarse oaths that kept our courage straight;
Heard music in the silentness of duty;
Found peace where shell-storms spouted reddest spate.
Nevertheless, except you share
With them in hell the sorrowful dark of hell,
Whose world is but the trembling of a flare
And heaven but as the highway for a shell,
You shall not hear their mirth:
You shall not come to think them well content
By any jest of mine. These men are worth
Your tears. You are not worth their merriment.
2.2k
A hundred, a thousand to one; even so;
Not a hope in the world remained:
The swarming, howling wretches below
Gained and gained and gained.
Skene looked at his pale young wife:--
"Is the time come?"--"The time is come!"--
Young, strong, and so full of life:
The agony struck them dumb.
Close his arm about her now,
Close her cheek to his,
Close the pistol to her brow--
God forgive them this!
"Will it hurt much?"--"No, mine own:
I wish I could bear the pang for both."
"I wish I could bear the pang alone:
Courage, dear, I am not loth."
Kiss and kiss: "It is not pain
Thus to kiss and die.
One kiss more."--"And yet one again."--
"Good by."--"Good by."
Note.--I retain this little poem, not as historically
accurate, but as written and published before I heard the
supposed facts of its first verse contradicted.
2k
Now I lay me down to sleep
I want for nothing more than to bury thoughts deep
Escape the wretches the day has brought
The wars, the sadness, the world has wrought
If I pass away in peaceful sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep.
If I should die before I wake
No more days should I have to ache
For this world has kept me far too long
It is time to hear my mellow swan song
If my soul is pure enough before morning wake
I pray the Lord my soul to take.
The four corners to my bed,
Surround me with the utmost dread
I know there is nothing left for me
My soul is nothing more than a sad story
I'm sorry for whatever path my carriers must tread, to the
Four angels round my head;
Who should know that, in life, from my troubles I fled
A noble life is not one that I chose
But I'm ready for an ending, for angels, I suppose
One to watch and one to pray
So they will carry out my day
I will never see the morning light
I planned for dying on this night,
These angels will keep my suffering at bay, thankfully, there is
Two to bear my heavy soul away.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 11:07 AM UTC
So much time used up
On something I thought
Would be lifelong
That was murdered by the creation.
So much time used up
Filling my voids
Bandaging my wounds
And avoiding my heart.
So much time used up
Having sleepless dreams
Eating anxiety soup
and trying to break my mind.
So much time used up
Washing my face in tears
Putting on the makeup
That masked my dead face.
So much time just,
Used up.
Then you.
So much time used up
Listening to that voice
Soothing as the breeze
Scary as the ocean.
So much time used up
Letting our souls out
Talking about anxiety meals
And holes barely stitched together.
So much time used up
Learning all about your heart holes
Stitched with gut wretches
As she made every hole.
So much time used up
Grabbing your hands
And showing you how to sew
And we sewed each other up
So much time used up
After we realized we shared
The same string to sew our hearts
and now they connect forever.
So much time used up
Listening to our heart string tunes
Play a new song
Of soul love
So much time used up
Laying head on stomach
And afternoon laughs
Sprinkled with our breaths
So much time used up
On dreams of you
Anxiety soup isn’t
Served here anymore.
So much time used up
On never having enough
Time with you,
My love.
Aug 5, 2018
Aug 5, 2018 at 12:35 AM UTC
that empty desert land filled with memories
all lost in the storm
cast me away
throw out my warmth
1000's of long lost emptiness filled by the love I once i had for you
now cast away over that deserted desert land
empty inside
nothing left
am i just another one of your wretches
am just to be fooled with
thrown away in the ditch
broken down
just another ********** in your web of lies
say you love me than curse me away
lost memories fill the sky
fill my heart with unforgivable lust
lust which I've cast away
never to be spoken of again
see my dear friends love is not one to trust
it will seize your heart and tear it apart
makes you feel like you are in heaven
but really you only exist in hell
it might come at a force so strong u cannot control
try to break the bond
try to get away
but you are already a victim
a victim to its lustrous smell
its deceivable warmth
makes you believe you are special
and no one else has felt this way
than it takes it
take that feeling
makes you feel worthless
takes everything and leaves you broken
on the floor you are crying
regretting everything
every word ever spoken
but you can't go back
can't erase the past
so now it haunts you
you were just some man's *****
his one night stand
his perk of the night
you swear revenge
swear to get it back
so you become the very thing you hate
a demon to the style of hurt
.....a slave to love
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 7:22 PM UTC
I matched the look in his steel colored eyes with my own gaze of determination
The angel Uriel descended in but a thousand broken moments woven together with the distinction of bliss
And he bade unto me in my slipping consciousness...
I could not tear my eyes way even for an eon, the sight to my eyes was a breathe to my lungs - as is a beat is to my heart, to be everything at once,in turn to the nothing I was but a lifetime ago
Could you kiss my soul?
In the way music breaks my heart
Could you sing a song at the footsteps of the eternal himself
His ways*, higher
I think I take too much, you say I take too little, still you give as generously as you have before
What is this
That I would bare
My soul to you
With solemness, your eyes
Find me in the dark
Still you see me as I am
But a child
A fragile candle wish
Blown among the known
And wretches of night
To weep with the mindless
How can I return unchanged
To that which bore me
It leaves me in anguish
That which knew me
It let's me go
To those who see, but know too little
Reach with tendrils of hope and fire
Further still you lead me
Through loneliness I am not alone
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 6:18 PM UTC
A STRANGE thing surely that my Heart, when love had come unsought
Upon the Norman upland or in that poplar shade,
Should find no burden but itself and yet should be worn out.
It could not bear that burden and therefore it went mad.
The south wind brought it longing, and the east wind
despair,
The west wind made it pitiful, and the north wind
afraid.
It feared to give its love a hurt with all the tempest
there;
It feared the hurt that shc could give and therefore it
went mad.
I can exchange opinion with any neighbouring mind,
I have as healthy flesh and blood as any rhymer's had,
But O! my Heart could bear no more when the upland
caught the wind;
I ran, I ran, from my love's side because my Heart went
mad.
HDR II
The Heart behind its rib laughed out. "You have called me mad,' it said,
"Because I made you turn away and run from that young child;
How could she mate with fifty years that was so wildly bred?
Let the cage bird and the cage bird mate and the wild
bird mate in the wild.'
"You but imagine lies all day, O murderer,' I replied.
"And all those lies have but one end, poor wretches to betray;
I did not find in any cage the woman at my side.
O but her heart would break to learn my thoughts are far away.'
'Speak all your mind,' my Heart sang out, "speak all your mind; who cares,
Now that your tongue cannot persuade the child till she mistake
Her childish gratitude for love and match your fifty years?
O let her choose a young man now and all for his wild sake.'
1.8k
today i'm feeling like a dead dog
on six day old
august pavement.
no lovers swarm around me
to remember their spontaneous moment.
only flies.
who among you will kiss
my fever-blistered lips?
my bloated stomach wretches
for the comfort of the
old green dumspter
i called my house,
so homesick am i.
i'm so sick of hope and
trust, and no sun has ever
shown me favor without
burning me first.
i'm wearing the best of
my saturday night special,
the old duck sauce t-shirt,
unraveled shorts, sandals.
i wear a culture-shocked heart
on my sleeve so everyone
can see i'm naive.
May 25, 2012
May 25, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
"Me too, perchance, in future days,
The sculptured stone shall show,
With Paphian myrtle or with bays
Parnassian on my brow.
But I, or e'er that season come,
Escaped from every care,
Shall reach my refuge in the tomb,
And sleep securely there."
So sang, in Roman tone and style,
The youthful bard, ere long
Ordained to grace his native isle
With her sublimest song.
Who then but must conceive disdain,
Hearing the deed unblest,
Of wretches who have dared profane
His dread sepulchral rest?
Ill fare the hands that heaved the stones
Where Milton's ashes lay,
That trembled not to grasp his bones
And steal his dust away!
O ill-requited bard! neglect
Thy living worth repaid,
And blind idolatrous respect
As much affronts thee dead.
1.5k
When my mind is at rest I think of peace and blissful things
I see the unfettered and innocent smile of a new babe in arms
Or the Omnipotence gilded arms outstretch showering blessings
The shores of a pristine beach with blue waves marking times
Silver sunset sprinkling magic across quiet waters with no stressing
Or me sat at my fathers feet as he reads engrossed in his charmes
My mind rests easy in places of warmth and enriching lovings
My mind has no space to linger in the murkiness of failings
I do not plunge dark dept to court the uninspiring s in terms
To share company with wretches with wasted mental ecthings
Eyes that see dew in darkness and acrimony in fruitless farms
Voices made for howling dirges and apostles of negative cravings
Demented downers who drink from the fountains of fallen vamps
Satiated miserably they seek to retch their stench on followings
My mind finds the luminous stars and praise their spark-lings
It atunes to the silent melodies of sages who now sleep uncramp
It relishes the delights of the million trillion wonders tinklings
Its marvels the joys of the thousand mothers holding new champs
Can share the lifting dreams of hopes for happy new beginnings
Living is never about waste for the Creator avails no dumps
For a mind that lives and grows in the Light is forever inspired and inspiring
Copyright LaurencA.1stAugust2018.All rights reserved
Aug 1, 2018
Aug 1, 2018 at 7:54 PM UTC
The lines have escaped me once again,
all buttered up and sliding under furniture
like cockroaches at dawn.
I was made with a different chip.
My heart, she dances to her own music,
a song with no words- just Gregorian chanting
and an amnesiac beat; she dances lonely.
My tongue is tied to the floor of my mouth
with fresh sinew that I stole from the belly
of the cat still steaming on the damp asphalt
beneath alien streetlights, streaming
unhurriedly past a new Mercedes,
seeming to fall in chunks down my throat...
neverlanding.
Every trip, every drip, drop, knife or needle,
only leaves me more alone when my imagination
is gone again, and the elevator panels
have ceased giggling as I tell them ***** jokes
between floors two and four.
My dreaming lover lies while I stare rudely,
washing his clothes and feeding him broth.
He wretches over and again, poisoned
by the arsenic in my kiss, the lead in my bowels.
Not this lover, nor any other, could survive
the rugged terrain where I insist to live,
where the well supplies me well
with replacement tears,
yea, even blood.
The mosquitos so strong there,
despite the heat and barren broken stones,
they lick me dry as I methodically flip the light
and lift the coffeetable and ottoman in the den,
finding the nests of my soulmates
who have eaten my lines slowly,
savoring the bitterness of cheap paper.
I refill myself at the well,
swallowing the unsuspecting larvae,
while the one I love drowns facedown as I watch.
His heart stops, and mine, she quickens her step.
She can hear the tortured tongue.
Tickled with every gulp, he's giggling.
I take a step forward, over the void.
The elevator disappears as I turn the corner
into the falling crimson sun.
Jul 11, 2012
Jul 11, 2012 at 5:40 PM UTC
Lord Neptune's daughters
sit fast to their rocks
like Grotesque limpets
singing their songs to the sea
for the sirens sing for blood
that of warm blood of mariners
To the howl of the wind
and the dreadful din
as waves crash onto this hell
many ****** are tossed abound
then commence to run aground
onto beaches of razor sharp shells
Hideous screams of victory
echo over this foul land
and these wretches of piscine descent
now feed on the carcass of man.
By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 8:48 PM UTC
Swallow them down
Lumps of coal leaving dust in my throat
Cough once
Cough twice
Spit out black coal dust
Brush my teeth
In my chest
Or sometimes my stomach
The pressure builds
When I *****
And my stomach wretches
And my heart seizes
They'll climb back up my esophagus
Edges sharpened
Reflecting crimson gore
From the paths they cut as they came back out
If coal can turn into diamonds
Can my "self restraint"
Turn a bitten tongue into silver?
I cut my voice on diamonds
They looked like rubies when I spit them out
Dec 5, 2023
Dec 5, 2023 at 2:54 AM UTC
Path of invisibility
Wretches a far out cry
To torturing means
A journey
Tolerated by little insanity
Secret scrolls unquestionable
To an endless developement
Coating many layers of implementation
Sustain by giants
To diminutive people to exodus
Their captivity
Gesturing
In the fibers of humanity
Oct 1, 2009
Oct 1, 2009 at 1:09 PM UTC
*I am very unwell
My body wretches
Heart palpitates &
I am very unwell
A sickly soul within
Darkness got a hold
Won't let me go &
I am very unwell
My skin creeps
My bones creak
My voice croaks &
I am very unwell*
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 12:35 PM UTC