impulsive bloodlines / mental trysts

i squeeze the tar out my brain

Some words mingled and intertwined to what we call poetry. Highest Rank: #4 in Poetry (no intention of further continuation)

wither, with him, within

boyhood, withering beneath a wild sky (#37 in poetry 12/11/17) © vangohs, 2017

OH ISSUE, AT WHICH HOUR WILT THEE LEARNETH TO WAKE?

I think I burnt down an angel once.