I used to think:
I'm craving a mirror of all I'm not.
There's a scintillating pleasure in devouring the flesh of morals,
I find a strange passion in violence.
(A dearth of outlets.)
Look at these imbeciles.
Looking for a balance in a world,
Inherently topsy turvy.
The universe sits upside down,
The universe is not whole,
Its slices are parting.
(A dearth of outlets.)
Hearts break and people breathe.
Calamity and normality go hand in hand.
The day is still,
The day is ordinary.
There is nothing in a day,
But people.
People
somehow
always
find
a
passion.
YOU ARE READING
evolution • poetry
Poetry[3rd place at TPC Annual Awards 2020; adjudged on the basis of poems 00 to 08] "Relearning and revival, Visions and revisions. No more ephemeral, forever eternal." Evolution does not occur overnight. It occurs one mistake and one epiph...
