A Seed Of My Broken Child – Unhinged Poem 2020TOO

What is the sea that spills from me, a sickness, a seed, a desire to be incomplete, I waived the purpose of my need, gave it substance, a stickiness to see, faded, old, dry and cold, my broken dreams, my child, my seed, swept away before me, in a river of ammonia, a sea of disowning…

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