Unfilled in Everything and Nothing

  • March 7, 2023, 11:06 p.m.
  • |
  • Public

Overwhelming rage is all I feel
I sit on deaths door
She welcomes me
Hands extended will she be there?

Cold, her dark expression
My obsession
Extended hands
Are nowhere

Extended rage
this isn’t me
Feathers flurry
Am I really me?

Hot, alive
Expression my demise
I sit on deaths front porch
She blows smoke at me

Cold, feelings overwhelm me
Her hands extended
will they take me?


Loading comments...

You must be logged in to comment. Please sign in or join Prosebox to leave a comment.