• safflower 29w

    Turning points?
    Mistaken sire!

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    Dead end.

    My throat withholds the sickness
    that slips to a corner
    while seducing some rotten epilogues
    the parchment paper is dusted,
    For there are more assumptions
    and less clarification in my sky
    But it rains within monsoon
    For the domain knows how terror
    Scotches,sulks and gulps
    the entire territory

    My head is flaky
    like scrape of last dough
    Scratch the fences around
    hooke all unconditional variables
    For naked walls wither;
    They don't stand with
    Screw & bolts
    To have paranoid with
    Hanging memories
    Past is the only constant
    layered by my bones
    Brittle and hollow

    My skin has burn marks,
    fissures between my fingers
    Save yourself from darkness
    Before it occupies you with
    abstract patterns
    That can't be cloned.
    Scaled are venomous creatures
    They chomp and swallow
    Before you hide and walk
    Crooked teeth visit smiles
    Often in flickering lonliness
    "Bleed ,bleed and die"

    The sky will evident the crime
    But sinful prints will sway away
    With grey clouds or red lanes
    And they say
    "The same feathers fly in flocks
    and same skin huddles"
    The origin crosspoints the vertix
    For some backyard soils
    Can't sculpture tenderness
    But hid the bodies and eat the corpses
    For all tears don't hit the funeral


    ~Nida