it's the place where you live
one or two times a year
like a vacation from love
rage
divorced from humanity, from thought
reason, temperment
I fucking hate
filled to the rim
against the dying of the light,
the light itself
from the slow motions of my head
to the quick images of random acts of violence
and senseless brutality that appear in my brain
before my very eyes
before my eyes found the nail
before I pounded the nail in the coffin
before I died
Chris Yvon
7 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment