Throat raw from abusing my soul
I swallow past a thick lumpy knoll
And frantically try to recollect times when
My psychic body had been more whole.
When seeing his face didn't compel
the best of my heroes to bloodless cold
While his pretty mouth spoke sweet renewal
but his hands twisted madly at my throat.
A place for me to BE, however I am.
"I find that compassion & misanthropy are often two sides of the same coin. It's coming from the same impulse. One side of you wants to save humanity. The other wants to destroy humanity. I think in both cases you just want our suffering to end."
Brought to my knees, my cup runneth over. Story took me in its womb and kept me there like a lover, a mother...forever.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.