| unfinished_poem_number_56 | ||
| squint |
my silhouette's soliloquoy (sp?) plays to contempts sad burn as the sun drags itself down the azure walls, burdened with celestial beauty. evenings fingers thread self loathing through my intertwined veins (i never finished this poem. if you would like to contribute, feel free to do so :) ) |
020525 |