deep valley wounds

A Poem by winter;lyra

soap tissued
brain matter
stitched pieces
deep valley wounds

-your recluse

tomorrow's boom,
breathe into my parlor bloom
it's a matter of dream
of self-esteem and bit of
~love

f*ck me not
hold me not
on that fisherman's ark
bark me not
because i'm gone when i'm not
on
to your pristine glistering trap
that's a plot
at fault

at fault, you're at fault
and that's a one man's way
to grand new death
that's a bland new sway
another stitch in the flesh