insomnia~A Poem by skeletalmartyr
The asylum latches my lunges to chains of a rusted anchor.
The insomnia keeps the marrow in my bones from wandering. to the martyrs recreating scaffolding, I am not a skeletal army of glass ribcages. But you are a window that can be seen, not touched. © 2012 skeletalmartyr |
StatsAuthorskeletalmartyrDecaying Crypt, FLAboutJenna. Jen. Tori. Turtle. Take yur pic. Music addict. PANHEAD more..Writing
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