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Published: 2004-03-21 21:14:55 +0000 UTC; Views: 74; Favourites: 0; Downloads: 5
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Description
hope is rottingswamp eating roots
thrive in the murkiness
stinking dead thoughts
resurface.
It will be months before they get devoured
The breeze is hot humid sticky
makes the back of your neck sweat.
Where's the escape door?
Sink, sinking into the swamp.
Get lost in recycled moss junk.
Completely submerged now, choking in your nose
Headache flash in your brain
and you'll never think again.