dear diary,
in bleak blue silence crystals love without a beginning, without an end.

burning wax, candles - i am a skeletal figurine moulded by unsteady hands or
i am a shapeless mass in an empty room, the lack of shape gripping every atom, relentless anonymity or
the saintly purity of true lack of form, my nothing skin creating the nothing landscape of a monumental void,
fixed nonexistence expanding in every direction, fixed nonexistence taking control, the great emptiness fulfilling unspoken
prophecies, fulfilling itself and in that fulfilling absolutely nothing or
space absorbing itself for the final judgement: absolute zero like a strand of grass
an unimaginable inverted fire.

i never loved him.

No comments:

Post a Comment