My mind is much less
of a danger to me when
it's at rest, but still, I do
not sleep; For some reason,
I fear the morning.
YOU ARE READING
After Death
PoetryAfter one piece of you dies, what becomes of the rest? (Sequel to "Torched.")
Morning
My mind is much less
of a danger to me when
it's at rest, but still, I do
not sleep; For some reason,
I fear the morning.
