Permeated with unrest,
Dripping with this weariness,
I sink between the bed and the wall,
Hemmed in by stale, dead, white.
I want to slather it all with blood,
With loud, beating permanence.
I want. I want. I have want.
And the silence of this stagnant torrent
Is broken by my bleating.
3 comments:
you cheated, you're not allowed to edit stream of consciousness.
TB, you are one of my favorite people on earth.
http://www.silentsatisfaction.blogspot.com/
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