| |
infectious worms keep slithering out my ears
the excess..... waste.
the thoughts, they ravaged before i got to hear them.
[silence.now.]
your picture fell to the floor, it is too quiet in this widowed room
brushing the cobwebs and dust with a corn husk broom.
with this
[ s . p . . a c e]
a being. a life and the lifeless.
{ [ thisspace. ] }
our scars on our face
behind bars we retrace
our sins on our lips
|
| | Posted 11/21/2005 6:56 PM - 9 Views - 8 eProps - 6 comments
- recommend
  - recs0
- share
- email
 - sent0
|
