Drawn to Dark, you antiflame. Vibrations will not stop, still it turns. Threaded and lost in the eddy of fear. My bleeding gums shine bright.
Antiflame
Tag: old
My Kind of Weirdo
Time relentlessly washing over, eroding and churning. I find myself surprisingly old, solitary and drifting into eccentricity. Each morning I wonder, “what kind of weirdo are you today?” Time reveals my charming weirdo ways.
