when they stepped inside her chest, they robbed her tomb, uncovering a crypt filled with gold, ambition, kindness, and a longing to be liked.
the ascendancy of her scattering sickening was getting ready to defuse.
she was moldered, a delegate declining, taking space, and blistering.
they beg her to forget about it but the soil that they dug up is still lodged in her fingernails shifting and adapting to her loss.
YOU ARE READING
Screaming Into The Void
Poetry#1 in poetry :) #1 in free verse :) Have you ever felt like it was the end? Like today was just a bad day? That no matter how many times you believe that something can happen that it just might not? That no one gives a damn at all? That all you do...
