1.
[ like an itch, an odd desire to never stop till it bleeds.
like a scratch, but with keen carbon steel
deep in the stem of white orchids ]
2.
[ flowing sap from blank space perianth,
leaves us blank space flesh in the end ]
3.
[ it's not a breeze, more like a hurricane
not a leak, more like a flood
and not a flood more like a tsunami
the state of mind and the loss of fluid ]
4.
[ the moment when it finally sinks in and it gives you the realization that you really did an accomplished achievement, except that it's not much of a win and you don't feel like you've won. more like you have lost. in other words, it already has been done and it's now gone. ]
YOU ARE READING
every nook and cranny inside the mind of a morose weed
Poesíaa chain of uneasy events capsuled in secret proses * words in the petals of a dead flower, pick each single one of them and tell my story
