An evening, sitting, wanting, ripping, blackening.
An acerbic wind.
Wait for the train and the glut of passengers to spill out.
The end, endless encircling madness, himself in the wilderness.
Girls, Judas and their selfish wives, lives pass, suck Jesus.
In his selfish mask.
Tormented, pushed down, I’m full: kill, hell thoughts.
Giggle to stifle grief, uncomfortable familiar family and perfe...

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The breath had left her, not long ago.
Her face, pressed into the pillow
Drained black tears onto white linen.
Her fight had been lost; the long battle had ravaged her
And her iconic war paint scrawled ironic defeat in tracks
Down her pale skin onto paler sheets.

A motionless husk; as she lays there;
Her raven hair, unravelled from familiarity,
Fall's delicately on her back,
...

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