angel circus
I take my aim giving credence to the collapsed infrastructure called my brain. the subconscious is so unclear. Stabbed by imagination I lay bleeding as my aorta atery bleeds. I do this as such my mother goose. no motives or direct actions that have been claimed. clowns we are forever here to play.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
