saffron colored
whimsies
circle
my half vacant
skull
traversing the moments
between
incandescent daydream
and
inclement sorrow
it smells faintly
of dandelion tea
with a faint
undertone
of cyanide
so i practice
painting my face
for my starring role
in
the screaming mine
trying to ignore
this impending doom
perched
like a raven
with tentacles
on my clavicle