broken
The clouds are just as I
would paint them if I
did not have frozen hands.
Wind in the corner of
my eyes no more.
I travel to the broken clouds with my
grandmother's brain.
Evidence of accidents.
Today things and people won't
talk to me.
But this is what I asked for.
The clouds are just as I
would paint them if I
did not have frozen hands.
Wind in the corner of
my eyes no more.
I travel to the broken clouds with my
grandmother's brain.
Evidence of accidents.
Today things and people won't
talk to me.
But this is what I asked for.
This would be just another dull record of my day and not creepy at all were it not the last thing I wrote in my sketchbook before the accident. Well, the grandmother's brain part is creepy in either case. That was the mri negatives I felt compelled to take home from my mom even though they freak me out.
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