grave rob(bin)
Resurrecting words in a graveyard, Buried for dramatics then excavated to remind me of The way I can create whole worlds Worlds from a feeling Heart beating, non-forgetting beast Those wild-eyed, dirty treks through terrain unfamiliar Trying to lift myself out of tunnels of dark screams Roars in a frequency I’m supposedly gifted to know Hearing the voices telling me to keep going Not knowing There is no destination That’s why they romanticize the journey The end isn’t programmed There’s nowhere to go