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La Guerre
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Favored
I'm hungry, but know
yet another hour to feed the tone.
Til dawn we make
tapping tongue to tongue a remorse code puzzle game.
When I give out with a desert canyon mouth
it will be in your favor for fear of the danger
of causing you the drought.
Fuck the morning, fuck my memories,
they awaken distraught thoughts in me.
No stress relief exists til i'm relieved of this, of all of it.
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To live in you favor, a chain on an anchor
it weakens never, drowns forever, knows no better.
Bot sorrow echoes low.
It carries very slow,
but it arrives to sea salt eyes.
Forget the fear festering here,
it'll catch you dry.
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