don't waste your time on your knees

worn through, flipping through pages of the sicknes unto death or the confessions of...

maybe a drawn out figure will emerge, sworn by oath through calamity and we'll just shutter at the way it moves (this life) and surviving it is the key, answering the door, undead, is more than most armies crave or lurch into by sheer force of undervalued interest in sex (desire comes in dead last in the race of things that make us more) and curses (words, not voodoo) and we'll just stumble on (what else is there?) and someday, some summertime sun will shine and knowing will be a figment of our dying days...

2004-05-21 | 10:29 p.m.
0 comments so far