A cloud of smoke inside my head. Envelope me, dread. Help me relax in your arms, shade my skin with colorful scars. Give me nicotine, please. The stillness is not enough, so I scream inside my mouth. Get tangled in moss, mourn every fiber of loss. Catch moths with fingernails from the daintiest threads. Bite my wrist, softly. Reveal a garden, bloodflowers inside. A trickle of honey, my cyanide.
There's so much I could give, so take it and leave.
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Värvitud sinised linnud
PoetryVärvitud sinised linnud on kurvad. Nad ei nuta, vaid raputavad tiibasid ja pritsivad värvi. Kogumik luuletustest nii inglise kui ka eesti keeles. / The colored blue birds are sad. They will not cry, but shake their feathers and spray paint. This is...
