It's the witchcraft of rain;
a deep familiar craving, a hunger,
a longing for the damp earth of fields in the future
in exchange of the gray mold in the corners
of this room.
My sleep and wakefulness is shrouded in metaphors and pictographs:
Words and colors and words and colors and words--
They are merciless and hold me by the neck,
and I submit with fear, but without question.
Tonight, my bedroom is a battlefield of dreams;
Tomorrow, the world is my prize.
2 comments:
hyped+++ for the photo and the writing :-)
Thanks Onin! Loved that thifted coat in your latest style trip btw :D The red lining's awesome!
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