march 2020, room 541
the walls of my old room were wilting,
had i overstayed my welcome,
sulking like animals behind glass.
i cry out and startle as the wind changes
in the eye of the storm, i'm sentinel.
do not chase, create no resistance
so i fasted like a monk, clipped my desire.
heard you playing bass whilst meditating
my beau rêveur, before we met im sure
we thought of one another, pillow thoughts
moments before sleep, on the same frequency.
used to fancy dying at twenty seven
now i don't have enough time
because i need until the end of time
to prove just how much you mean to me.
i'll be at your altar, pisces.
YOU ARE READING
you, and my materials.
Poetrygive me a few moments of your time so that i can dress you up in poetry give me your eyes, see the world through mine i beg you to be gentle, please have empathy this is your world, on the floor, by the bed like laundry, pick me up and use me. s...
