Apparitions speak by floor creak.
I, feel sound in my resolve.
Everyone seething about discolored hues.
Intensely internal automation…
With each dilation I see, blind eyes.
A coffin full of hallow words.
I, sever contentment.
Disadvantages of deserving.
Ripped away from comfort. Denial.
Becoming, again animals to be kept at bay.
I, dart from sight.
Just to face the hunger of the pack.
Podcast: Play in new window | Download