.a lost cause.
nighttime sounds, it hurts like a cheese grater on the ears, wearing down barriers and patience
just the next house over just a little bit just a little
stop
what a brain tumor of a headache, is that why they never see the sun anymore? only time wells and swells to tip the balance, and we’ll see, won’t we.
finding nothing but brightly colored failures and shame covered relics of what used to
be
used to
be
someone
used to
be
something
and now it’s
nothing
my friend, you’re a waste of pain(t) a despicable wreck of nervous impulses and gangrenous limbs
necrotic neurotic
you once were
something
and now you’re
nothing
YOU ARE READING
Club 27 Has Reached Capacity - F. T. Willz
PoetryEvery poem by F. T. Willz I could find. Some of them are titled by me seeing as they didn't have any titles or dates to use as a chapter name, although every poem is definitely written by F. T. Willz. Enjoy.
