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

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