I wonder what people did about writer’s block before magnetic poetry?
#1
who I might be
matters not
to the crushed and bleeding girl
beneath that cold diamond sky
where dreams go
to gasp for last breath
#2
above a symphony sea
moon and stars
dream of
rose colored skies
morning’s whisper never softens
the cold blue black void
#3
languid purple petals wilt
frantic
embittered by the
black void symphony
soaring dreams crushed under
a rainstorm of
hot iron whispers
delicate screams
swim beneath
the faceless
warm spring moon
