• madmax1982 23w

    Riches

    Screeming out my head, twisting reality twisting my faith in to a pattern of coulers drenching my soul, dripping from my teeth curdling the sky as it rushes towards my melting face, I know no one to be who they whish to be only broken shards of incompleat fantasy etched in to the bricks they drag so comfortably along there ragged trampled path, racing to be first in a race allredy won and done with. still like a cup of weathered untouched neglected stagnant Coffey we grow penacilin moss and roots trying to find are way in the blistering cold to the truth. The sky crashes and collides with the force of a soul so ripped and torn and experimented on its weight and meaning drapes across the floure suffocating everything but the echo of a thought drawn in the bark by the lake by the fire and I scream from my head God you are a lier.
    ©madmax1982