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Literature Text
Smells like used bandages in a hospital room this morning
Antiseptic, with an underlying scent of fresh wounds
It wafts in as though the entire world were sick
Diseased, dying, but no one to save it
God, what a smell; it’s in my clothes, my hair
Crawling over my skin like ants
Consuming me, until I’m as diseased
As the world
Antiseptic, with an underlying scent of fresh wounds
It wafts in as though the entire world were sick
Diseased, dying, but no one to save it
God, what a smell; it’s in my clothes, my hair
Crawling over my skin like ants
Consuming me, until I’m as diseased
As the world
Literature
october blinking
wishingwell boy
now is not the right place
for your snapdragon eyes
and a smell of summer
anchoring bones is a thing of the future
right here, i'm still a catkin
as the willow sways
(i fell to the ground and no one knows
the softness of my touch)
Literature
White Out
I stare
up and away
as the snow blankets us
shrouded in a winter white out
it's warm.
Literature
Habit.
Fake smiles
'til your face cracks.
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