DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, some memories haunt us to the grave---they never fade:|


I put the space

mere a distance

and air to redeem

for the desk to choke the

fogging steam

heavy unspoken glares of things untold a gleam

nears and approaches some spites that repeat

if walls at least could shout could scream

lines would be spit to the ultimate some tense perched

meant on bits of merged

known subtles

left on the bottles

shaped from knuckles

inherited not chuckles

reds on the addicting muffles

        
                                                                ­                        ------ravenfeels