7

[torpe]

i cradle myself in cakes of mud

in a dried river bed, i rest

amongst the broken glass bottles

callous screams of unfree souls

bones of creatures not yet in existence

looking up and imagining old ages of water

filling my gills with poisonous siren song

the anvil is heavy around my broken ankle

no more water in my lungs and i’m bored

[Hidden]

Nice poem! It really shows some people's thinking and it's refreshing.

[torpe in reply to Hidden]

oh my gosh thank you so much for thinking so :)))) i really appreciate it