Reflection
Is but a stranger
These strings set rigorous routine
Cracks form, covering my body
Weakened, blistered and torn apart
Revisiting old wounds
Completing the circle
Once again
Swollen eyes fixed on the prize
We hang our heads in self-destructive triumph
These fault lines
A soul erosion
Predictions never became so clear
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2020 • Fluid Existential Inversions
2015 • The Direction of Last Things
2015 • The Direction of Last Things
2015 • The Direction of Last Things