sometimes it takes me all night
to believe in myself
the buckling swirling sweetness
of time a delusion
to believe in myself
the buckling swirling sweetness
of time a delusion
I believe in stories the dark tells
plots strange as stars
whole galaxies of grief and strife
open sleepless portals
to ghosts who listen to questions
with growing hunger
2 comments:
Very sad.
oooooh I love the growing hunger of ghosts
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