she is there ;
amongst the dark twisting web.
my inner voice , she sings.
Darkness inside , my pent up expression.
trapped.
bewildered.
angry .
sad .
she is all these things , as am me.
as a threesome we share the same headspace.
my lifeless lackluster pent up expression.
death follows us around .
my curiosity is entangled to my devine .
HELP , i say
but no one can ;
but me .
my my devotion to my art is my total inspiration.
it was all me ,amuffled intoxication with my pent up expression.
YOU ARE READING
Grinding gears
Poesiathe demons are calling crystal clear calling but the clarity is a trap just to be sure can be twisted in itself when you think you speak with god but its the demons that are calling
