delirious mist boils me raw
sordid blue dreams trudge in my mind
voices beg for freedom from my fingertips
there, grasped tightly in my palm --
red crescent marks:
sore, stopping them from soaring.
them. they who are loud.
grating.
raucous.
the truths, the harsh truths,
that no one wants to hear.
welcome to dewdrops, loves. it's been a while, but as usual... sit back, relax, and enjoy -- preferably with some tea...
