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_88little man sunday morn watch the road wait for noon to make a move,_88
watch the child lift her brow flowery skirt watch her heart check for bleeding watch a dog kick up dirt.
by ~verilyartwork
Untitled PoemFuneral banquet. The death of a beloved father. This is what hell feels like, but hotter. And with more suits. I don't think mother is going to live much longer now. Each pulse of her opal heart is a wave upon salt, sugar, sawdust. She was so beautiful once. Once. Does anyone ever say anyone was beautiful twice? What happened between each phase of beauty? I suppose something could have happened. Anything'sUntitled Poem
by ~InShiningArmor
god said jumpmost teenage girls were busy spilling themselves into new clothing,god said jump
but not me. each day i was busy trying to keep you from running away.
+
my sober voice would crack each time
the ground beneath your feet shook.
i remember
i never found you the mo[u]rning after
and had to wash the bed sheets twice
by ~the-chemical-factory
look at meby ~hira-geco
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: cardboard box
- Interests: finding waldo
- Favourite poet or writer: kelsex elizabeth rakessss
- Operating System: organs
- Favourite cartoon character: paul, who is dead, who is a ghost.
- Tools of the Trade: maynard.
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Hello, love(:
This made me think of you.
--
"So destined I am to walk among the dark, a child in keeping secrets."
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