The sky is twisting unto itself
A grave for all those forgotten memories
Cool drops patter on my burning skin
The clouds rage towards themselves,
A Möbius strip of of screaming grey.
Lightning strikes that poor old tree,
The golden grass is glowing with a green
Haze.
Is it the sky that's growling and spiraling into neon chaos, or is it my staticky heart?
Who can tell, the damp has hit us all.
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Poetry for dumb bitches
PoesiaI'm going to write about rain now. Please don't read this it won't be any good.
