usnea covers
like fleece-lined leggings in cold
sheltering branches
usnea covers
like fleece-lined leggings in cold
sheltering branches
wall of december
candle lit with rusty hues
stood honoring yule
The Sun is shining
But in my head My darkness
Just swallows me whole
Train through towns well-known
Stops all predetermined now
Just a passenger
Pain radiating
Down my spine and through my bones
I want this to end
living wild and free
the white horse plagues me
desires and dreams
under the waxing
gibbous moon we say goodbye
last evening of five
Your porcelain skin
Dreams of mother’s posing
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