I bet you thought it would be different, being human.
Category: Poetry
SHE
…sharp teeth of an angel.
just words
Poetry is only a moment.
Wolves
We point at the path of sticky entrails and we blame you.
Rightly So
There is mad, mad joy to be found.
dead me, dead you
This can’t bode well, can it?
bursting
Living in my head, it’s not such a bad thing.
