Biography
Killing time is all. Lets have a good time shall we. “Do you remember the sight we saw, my soul, that soft summer morning round a turning in the path, the disgusting carcass on a bed scattered with stones, its legs in the air like a woman in need burning its wedding poisons like a fountain with its rhythmic sobs, I could hear it clearly flowing with a long murmuring sound, but I touch my body in vain to find the wound. I am the vampire of my own heart, one of the great outcasts condemned to eternal laughter who can no longer smile. Am I dead? I must be dead.” ― Charles Baudelaire
All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.
Blog entries by Avna Day
Brown Skinned Boy (11/10/2022)
Blog link: https://www.writeoutloud.net/blogs/avnaday
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