bleed! bleed! bleed! bleed! bleed!
but i shalln’t be happy.
filth gets washed away all the time.
and no one notices.
ignore me.
“I’M” hearing voices.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words.
Emotional stealth.
this is the home of The Beachcomber.
these are the ramblings of a confuséd individual.
that some might call poetry.
that some might call Benjamin.
these are the ramblings of a confuséd individual.
that some might call poetry.
that some might call Benjamin.
© Benjamin Russell
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