This day.
One year ago.
I watched myself wither to ash.
Bleeding tears of sinew.
No bones, just soul.
He had a name.
No god, no breath, no entrance.
But a tilted wisdom.
A confined way to dwindle.
A harrowed glance of pestles.
Goodbye.
I would've loved.
Forlorn.
A loss greater than life.
No peaceful solution.
Not for the supernatural gimmick.
No joyous sobs of burdened bliss.
Just a curse and a fist, and a spirit denied.
Fuck you all.
Enwombed.
