the age of monsters

the age of monsters

who owns these bones?

I barely remember.

at times, a deep melancholy descended upon the people who had fixed, internal true north.

I just roll off the bed and stroll around.

maybe it's more than just the darkness you're running from.

propose a cemetery for insanity.

small amounts of monsters existing forever.

it's all significantly less impressive once you feel more isolated from the world.

the underworld,

two weeks until she was no longer considered a danger to herself.

then you don't want me.

I'm in love and always will be.

I have stretched an hour into eternity. It's all within me.

better medicine

headstones now remain, power and cocaine.

the real question may not be whether we can manage to change but whether we can afford not to.

tell me what you want.

© Copyright 2024, Rachelle Younie