from yesterday’s wounds
i am slowly bleeding out
my disdain for today.
even apples in a deserted
garden no longer taste
as they used to be. the only
thing that becomes more
and more appealing
are the sharp words
and edges.
from yesterday’s wounds
i am slowly bleeding out
my disdain for today.
even apples in a deserted
garden no longer taste
as they used to be. the only
thing that becomes more
and more appealing
are the sharp words
and edges.
hidden pilcrow 