In sanity I sleep regularly.
Worthless words for trade at fucboi flea-markets.
Pulling out sun faded disheveled hair.
Cutting to core and removing the unwanted.
Deep red to soft white,
Countless seeds wasted,
unsprouting in stomachs.
Inquisitive insights induce sighs.
Sprawling spires fallen, like broken spears on befouled fields.
Useless when thrust against stoic shields —
Pen or Pin.
Stick to Stuck.
When drawing blood does one use pitch or sowing stitch.