here we are again, staving ourselves from the high, gongs ringing in our
ears, half deaf from the screaming we do each night, we don't need drugs to get high - we crave
absoluteness, consistency in our collective instability. We are deranged in our
restlessness, pouring ourselves down the drain with smiles stretched on our faces like
the wilting rosepetals of wintertime anywhere but here - where the ground freezes over.
YOU ARE READING
the heart is just an organ
Poetrypoems and thoughts and drabbles that'll never get published anywhere else