Gritting teeth,
piece thy skin underneath,
I fear blackness prying back old wounds,
spell out accustomed: doom,
wrench open to free-flowing river loom,
nourish flowers lushness in scarlet bloom –
Never leave mind with tender assume,
stench swaddles tightly of aromatic fumes....
an easy task for even the most talentless goon.
YOU ARE READING
Between an Antidote & a Dreary Phase
PoetryMy second Edition of a variety of Poetry feelings. For all the support and encouragements you all share with me - I do humbly appreciate all that you say and do. The feeling I get when another writer comments, or votes is imperial to how I interr...
