in my world
a new medium, unforgotten friend
my fishnets, my sacred canvas,
burning. collapse.
nothing was ever built to last.
new textures, raphael's transfiguration;
destruction is an art form.
the engines hum and the
arctic drone of the refrigerator,
are the only sounds
of my lonely little world.
i bite my own teeth,
nothing ever changed.
there's an itch in my throat
and i hear it knocking
it surrounds me
nothing ever changed.
YOU ARE READING
in your world
Poetry:: you were lost in your world and i couldn't find the way in my own ::
