Splashes of rainbow on a pockmarked slate wall. Carved to cut through the foolhardiness etched into calloused hands. I step carefully over long-forgotten bodies. Mold-dense and folded at right angles to heaven. The trickle of sweat from triple digit heat permeates the cracks in my life. A field of boulders as border stones for old age and obsolescence. Digging at the base of them, like headstones, until my knuckles are raw. Searching for a place to hide my failure. Every depression is already full before it's even exhumed.
12:02 a.m. - 2019-08-06
Recent entries:
Apatheism - 2019-08-23
Inward Etched - 2019-08-19
Nymphaeadeath - 2019-08-19
Cracked Glimmers - 2019-08-12
A Land of Dead Royalty - 2019-08-06
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