| i_should_have_listened | ||
| x |
there's a winged insect residing in my stomach, wings pinned down with nettles on the cistine surface on which sludge splashes upward twitches and writhes wishing to die but unable, with acid burnt eyes like broken mirror balls i want to purge it but my wings are pinned by the sign in my window which reads quite plainly "take your wings outside. you can't fly in here." i never listen the buzzing makes my throat swell and i'm asphyxiated, too dizzy to squirm |
030603 |