|
|
winged_things
|
|
|
akuma aoi
|
a black feather, a poisoned pen
nevermore, never again
expansive view from a desolate perch
ich will keine Engel seine
|
050817
|
|
... |
|
|
seraphim
|
i will have no angels here
|
050817
|
|
... |
|
|
z
|
see: sensorium
|
050818
|
|
... |
|
|
z
|
see: flapping_things_in_distance
|
050818
|
|
... |
|
|
zeke
|
vague and shining dully over air teeming with them and i skulk, cringing for cover in a hail of constant buzzing, low and drinking of me, each lighting and ascending, aloft with my blood heat tested and stops
|
050907
|
|
... |
|
|
z
|
leathern and dry in a hot sky night with burnt edges and claws and i see open mouths screaming angers flavored with fear and stops
|
051118
|
|
... |
|
|
z
|
that do not fly dragging across talus slopes and the unending dreams of life they struggle shedding and abraded until sun and sand and water dissolve the will and they rest, just for a moment, in the arms of time and stops
|
060210
|
|
... |
|
|
pSyche
|
Take your shotgun to them,
Make them fall.
Hopes,
Dreams,
Birds and
Angels...
Senses fail
Shoot them down.
|
060210
|
|
... |
|
|
kid andre
|
Those seeds that fall from trees and look like helicopters.
|
060210
|
|
... |
|
|
-
|
-
|
100126
|
|
... |
|
|
arwyn
|
i love butterflies. not actual alive ones but coloring book butterflies or the ones that decorate my bathroom. they reassure me because "just when the caterpillar thought the world was ending he became a butterfly" how helpful in this bleak world.
|
100127
|
|
... |
|
|
the last identity
|
my owl, spooky.
|
100127
|
|
|
what's it to you?
who
go
|
blather
from
|
