October 27, 2020

even poem says fuck it (WIP)

 

This work is in progress and in no way constitutes a finished piece...



"...eye cannot Love without the howl of surrender 
so why pretend i am here enough 
to regard my life as loving 
enough for anyone else 
save me pleas 
me me me 
so much 
an operatic narcissist 
a royal fecality 
and that's only 
my heaven scent 

my heart and lungs hurt
near broken, filled with dirt
am not dead might as well be
my heart and lungs hurt
absolution raven black fed thee
am not dead just what hell sees..."




EJR ©

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