cry

burn me, line my life, run through my life – take your toll, leave your mark. sting me – pink stripes of red, cut my face again. down in my mind i feel the racing streaks of pain again. my spine, is sore – these pains reign over me, my invertebrae, are dying. my face …

higher

higher than the stars I find myself again – beyond the dream of the lonely places that i’ve been. can you hear my sights of fancy, flights of sacred favour? have you heard my cries for trith? i ask you have you ever seen the star this high? Lonely places have no friends – and …