For now the tears keep
running over the river
to wash against the waterfall
and finally
land in this lake and
just like Alice
I am drowning
in my own tears
and the clothes I wear
are becoming translucent
leading the prying eyes to
close and none
to pay
heed to my tormented
cries
screaming and rumbling
for justice
in this maelstrom of
prejudice
wherein no one
dares to soak
themselves in my
Delphinium mess
and now the
flowers are wilting
because they
have received too much
water
and now this
salt is kept on my
grape stained lips.
I am finally silenced by
these waves and it
is horrendous
to be victim
to such
a subconscious
for now they
tear at my clothes
whilst these saltine droplets
fall onto this
viridescence rendering them growth
and me nothing but
torture,
and torture,
and
torture whilst
the Titanic falls into my
embrace.
YOU ARE READING
an abstract limn
Poetry❝ but this time i will not be lifted from the realms of this catastrophe, this time i will be dipped into the honeyed lox of this saccharine thought; drowning in the depths of the wilted tulips that have not ever to sprout. look at these alstroemeri...
