Jurnal
limited to loving the poles less
1 min lectură·
Mediu
the souls I have measurable light for
locked uncountable gates of matter
my demons could have gone through
not enough
I see some scars in my razors, old man
the irony I'm part of
not to name it now, above my eyes
(sometimes I laughed about it like I was
watching the green mask with jim
for the first time)
perhaps, it is it
the substance of stability lays there
around the heated pattern
where we may find common places
I fail to grasp why love isn't a red leaf
that anyone could hold
on the other hand,
I was never prepared for these dark cuts
never possessed the tactics to avoid them
yet they stand on my skin like signs
of a distant war
I am going to lose
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