~ everyone loves a bit of violence in their coffee
sleep,
is of inept
in city`s so
profound
that if we blink
we would have missed
a certain
part
of our ghosts
spendthrift`ing;
there is so much
darkness; riddles,
they are
sufferers for a
cause
I have
not a thing\nothing to offer
just absence & misery
in a sea of muffled
screams;
true,
I am an enigma,
the least
of someone else’s
troubles;
and tears, they
often fall
like cream
to sweet`en the blow
of a bland
aftertaste;
Oh, how
we are suckers
for a bit of violence
in our coffee.
Nice piece Devlin :)
Ah, Philip. . .So freaking good to see you! Wow, this is a rare treat. I humbly accept your comment;). . .xo, Devlin