original date of publication: unknown, probably 2020
Flight, low like an eagle
lowered by circumstance
my hands shake with a
statick that I do not know
I know of one static
I have not seen in years
Months is all it takes
for my vision to spot looking into the sun
like old film corrupting
spotting, growing mould in the sun
sun
I wish I worshiped the sun
I wish I worshiped a god
I wish I had fuckall to worship
I tried to worship flesh
but flesh grows cancers
and they spread to me like a virus
nobody fears this virus
I do not want to die
I want another life
put this one back
and put me back in time
YOU ARE READING
Assorted Poetry
PoezjaI had a vent account on Poetizer, but it went paid, so I had to save the poems here. They're not particularly effortful, just vomited prose, but I had nothing else to do with them. They may be added to, or not. Largely not too graphic, but there is...
