Scream and bitch
Break and snitch
Understand
These trumpets
They played the
Song for the
People of dead-
Water sprayed
Over my
Tombstone, dread-
I don't know,
I couldn't
Possibly
Fathom this!
Who would do
Something such
As this much?
Am I too
To blame for
The squeeze of
Slowing time?
The app downloads slow
Into my vision
As of this cold night-
Who goes there, alright?
I said show yourself!
Kept trying to tell
The doctors I'm mad
Yet they know little
They have stupid drugs
Little potent
Highly potent
Herbs, violins-
Make it all stop!
I'd rather hear
The clang of punch
It feels like I
Got punched in the
Mouth- Losing friends
But are still here.
YOU ARE READING
Incoherent Poetry from the Depths
Horror(The painting in the cover is by painter Nicola Samori) Do y'ever just wish to feel the chills of the ethereal down your spine? Have you wondered what life is like outside your material universe? Did you ever posit the idea, that a good bout of uns...
