chanting to Limos

I sat in the back of the theatre,
not quite alone, yet very, very alone.
There is a prominent emptiness somewhere deep,
a sensation that is entirely too strenuous to articulate,
but I acknowledge it as it is.
I allowed myself to succumb to Demeter
with paramount regret.
I like to believe I appeared mostly good and in order
but I was masticating myself from the inside out,
chanting to Limos.

Reviews

[Kerra]

very nicely written, enjoyed

[John the Baptist]

I find it hard to believe a 14 year old writes at this level.