Sad Labels:
dark poems
,
sad poems
,
sad poetry
our path takes us through all the small crevices. eyes like broken bulbs. fingers numb from holding onto the most slender of ledges.
no one knows. or ever will. our proximity to the fall.
slender stitches in the moonlight draw their pictures in our flesh. we writhe inside these plastic husks. our choices smaller than we ever imagined.
gravity breathes us in. bloated parasites drowning in our own conceits.
we chase the beasts that whisper our names. clutching the abyss in our wilting fingers.
scavengers in a lingering apocalypse. alive only because everything else is dead.
Post a Comment