abjure from thinking about yourself
memories won't be keen on remembering
eventually, they'll all rot and be tainted
left to my own devices, i won't ameliorate
i won't be like this forever, though
orbs of brown, hazelnut stare into mine
rudimentary affections will commence
all i want is to be okay, and with you
tempting me from the edge of anguish
eternity might be possible
YOU ARE READING
this fantastical world is too surreal (poetry #5)
Poetry"a rustle crackles underneath jackboots crossbow tight in hand she breathes one final breath before he pulls the trigger" you know the drill
