nameless III

the more of me i see, the less of me i want to be. i feel empty and dreaded and dead inside;

i’m a horn atop a pig’s head;

i still remember dogwood, sitting under my porch;

swinging morning-lilies atop the log,

a fresh throw of frogs on the grass,

pond filled with drains of murkweeds,

sadness in my cabinets

and grief in my drawers.

Hexagon

ender

VT

18 years old

More by ender

See all