THis is a poem i hop to be posted under darkness poems! That quaint shallow grave, Giftwrapped in withered flowers, decades dead, Who are these strange mourners with bloodied hands? Each glaring eye like a clouded shining moon. That quaint shallow grave, Carnally smeared with intense desperate reaches for love, Or how “love” is interpreted… Continue reading That Quaint Shallow Grave
Tag: shallow grave
Drink Fight Fuck – what I love
My wants in a nutshell; drinking, fighting, fucking. But once you’ve drunk, fought and fucked, life seems so dull. I don’t drink anymore, I haven’t been in a fist fight for a while, and I quit fucking. Thats all I can simplify myself to wanting. I love violence, I love sexuality.