Feeding The Formless

Leak into the paper, the constant whispers stop, lost if left for later.


To bleed between lines, even without the literal sense, the paper they will bind.


Trail the past and dot the future, not yet lucid, dismembered by abusers.


Mentality like the putty, you put it in your hand, and pressed as if paltry.


About Halfrican

Trying to improve writing(typing) along with interests in video games and writing. I have an addiction to cell phones and electronics. Buttons are fun to press, hopefully after school i'll be programming which will give me my fix. View all posts by Halfrican

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