A peach
Peculiarly perched
Is dry and shriveled
It's past days of imminence gone.
Sitting next to
Colossal triremes
Of packaged rice
And comfort.
I stab my finger and let the blood drip
Onto the forsaken thing
Reminding myself
That
In the world we have built
Of efficient metal
We are alive
And we can fall
And that is the beauty of our existence.
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Random Stuff I've Written For the Fun of It
RandomHi all! This will be a random collection of poetry, short stories, writing exercises, tips, and whatever else pops into my head!
