Long run the rivers, and there is too much water to fit my breath.
Long run the rivers, and my tears drown in them.
Bleeding are the ears that listen to me.
My words.
They dilute, like grime in the dirty sink water.
They blur away, like the face of a long gone parent in the mind of a man that once felt sorrow.
I haven't felt secure since you left.
I look at my face, at my hands, my home, my love.
Just to make sure they're still there.
Long run the rivers, fractious water bodies of lament and vague desires never put to fruition.
Long run the rivers, endless cycles of pain and claims to hate everyone and everything, like a broken record.
Bastard son, of humanity, of beast, of pain and lost pencils.
Long run the rivers, abstractions and senseless attacks of fury, demons dancing in desperate frenzy over my lifeless body.
Long run the rivers, in their loud, parasitic manner, filling my veins, my throat, my soul, drowning in their riotous fetishism and a passion that will never be mine, mine.
