Pure poetry, let’s talk about it in the third person, erasing that blank stare
The face isn’t as dirty as it could be, eyes starving each time they’re forced out of doors, the crumbling…
Howl because you haveto love somethingeven yourself, you twisted narcissisticyouthAnd…
This shape that is not a shape, has no colour or scent, just a sitting open thing, a vulnerable thing, like…