november fourteenth // sinking // pull and press
i.
this hollowed out space
aches and moans in place,
seeps deep to the bone,
as i roam, all tired and (alone)
ii.
crooked lines splitting
darkly along my skin,
wells up beating, bruising,
bloody red through moss-made skin
iii.
press of moisture
pulling close, whispers
and asks if i
know what i am
iv.
i am so small,
so fragile
v.
to when have
you g o n e ?
vi.
a hollow space
cries out from me,
sings melancholy
deep within my
S O U L
vii.
you all are so alike
in all your twisting
ways
viii.
pull and press—
ix.
(i miss you)
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