A want for destruction Held by A lack of faith In the oneself Wrapped in your Pious hope Choking on Identity indignation And the suffering

Author River Dixon
A want for destruction Held by A lack of faith In the oneself Wrapped in your Pious hope Choking on Identity indignation And the suffering
I can’t remember How many days it’s been Lost in these hours Through deep exhale The crisp autumn air Burns cold With each inhale There’s
Was it a sequence Of words Drifting in and out Like the last time I tried to sleep Through the Drowning sands With silica dreams
I can hold you In my arms And tell you All the lies You’ve been longing To hear And mean Every word I say Because
If you could see What I see In those moments when You’re most vulnerable You might recognize Through the haze Of your sadness There is
She once whispered to me Of things which truly matter Only once will I say this She told me It is then up to you