untitled pommeA Poem by kmartell
At a certain point nothing makes sense and the viewer is enthralled by that
the electric fan hums it's hurt, the bedroom is forbidden.
At certain times the places all feel broken I point a finger through the air at what isn't there thick with nothingness it is only air
and I want to go back to somewhere but it wont take me. It
doesn't want to see me coming. I am angry with it I throw a water glass.
What can it be. What can it be that turns...
a frozen depth inside into a window or a path that goes
inside that will explain all things once again to me.
© 2015 kmartellReviews
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1 Review Added on August 25, 2015 Last Updated on August 25, 2015 Author
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