What I say when it falls apart (A Staggered Acrostic)
(original post in my tumblr)
See, the path is one of loathing –
a hellish endeavor in holding hands
our angelic internal voices collapsing
while trumped up signs lead to the brink.
Feeling tremors never felt so cathartic,
a shade of ecstatic, one step from the
eschaton, a reveal worth division.
Is this a forced escape? No, the torsion
makes the way so detached I feel free
Posted on September 10, 2016, in Writing and tagged acrostic, poem, Poetry. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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