wavy dunes and heavy silence
I cover up my eyes, looking up — begging for some guidance
it starts where it ends and to
the end, I cannot reach
a maze of isolation, my fate of damnation
like a rattlesnake on a hunt,
far from humanity — shunt
numbness in my legs,
girt and dust as my jewels
I hallucinate of devil dust,
in my mind I get stuck
YOU ARE READING
Throes of Spring ✔️
Poetry[FEATURED] godhood is just like girlhood: a begging to be believed