I want to believe that I am not the pit in my stomachAll my friends are drowning and the sky is no longer blue but the colour of our eyes and our emac..
The maudlin walls looked at me and I smiledI've been here all my life and I have never wanted to leaveEvery door looks the same with the same number: ..
The blur of time, prismatic and refractal, casts its spiraling shadow across my siloIt marches, not with a military stomp, released from a bludgeoning..
I ask you: maybe I should leaveMy ticket is not here, but the next one overCould you point to me where it leadsThe seats here feel stuffy, like the th..
I hope that my fear grows branches the size of coconuts, its water glowing with a beige hum that reminds you of painting your childhood roomThat pit i..