The Transcendent Palimpsest of Mortis
beauty links arms with despair
"you of little faith," were the words i heard as i hear plates crashing in the living room, as i smell the fire burning the sheets on my bed, as i feel the bruises on the sides of my arm, as i sense the pounding of my heart, writhing to leave my chest and fall onto the floor. bloody & wounded. & here i am hearing thes...