The Cell (Remove filter)
Chlorine
Blankets Turn To Sand, You’re In A White Dress.
So Pale, Your Beauty’s Like The Dead.
But Is The Water Always Red?
Chlorine And Rust In My Lungs
Like A Metal Egypt To Be Shunned.
Glancing Off Of The Ceiling, We Listen To Her Cry
When She’s Disappeared Again Into All Her Dreams.
And All We Do Is Tune In While You’ve Become Part Of The Meek.
The Dolls And Lights Underwater.
Dolls And Ligh...
Sunday 19th May 2019 5:10 am
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
2 hours ago
Bre Mae on Love & nature
5 hours ago
Auracle on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
6 hours ago
Auracle on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
7 hours ago
Auracle on Unlearning...
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I.D.F.
10 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on I SUPPORT GENOCIDE ACTION I OPPOSE PALESTINE ACTION
19 hours ago
David RL Moore on Beirut 96.jpg
20 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Slowed down observations
20 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Recipe for Disaster
20 hours ago