• ink_me_in 11w

    In the shadow of November

    I drown, exploding,consumed by stillness
    And upheaval. In the most astounding way
    the world is black today. A hue well defined
    And crisp around the edges. An apple core

    Sitting patiently with my closed mouth.
    May colors embody the combustion. Darkness is miserable miser, a shadowy
    Receptacle. The Frosts are paler
    in sadness, the autumn.

    Much colder, laughter more of an obligatory
    Absolute. Refined as a triumph, categorized
    As important, joy is a hunger; a light within,
    Vast as tommorow is who yesterday becomes.