a crack forms
small at first
but gradually
spreading
dancing down
the supple subtle
of sultry
sanguine sorrows
as i sit
hearing the cry
of the cuckoo
still trapped
in between my
aching gasps
illiterate
alliteration
the only means
to pacify
the persistent
painful pangs
of prickling pins
i left myself
in the pool of
still wet ink
just enough
to drown
in a life
of half dreamt
insomniac laments