Saints on Acrylic Paint
9:54 pm still ... it's only my shadow to drift across this lonely floor. An off-white and pale grey. Painting skulls and roses and capital K's sleeping to drain the toxins, and negative brain waves. 3:15 am turn into myself, spray with disinfectant. I can never be open, you left me completely broken ...
Ad
Poetry Books 50% Off
Bestselling collections from top poets
Shop Now →
