The air is saturated by the stench of a perspiring structure, which decomposes into the swollen soils beneath. And there you cower… in a contorted stance, with your bitten limbs sunk against those horrid walls and cemented with your deceit!
By M.Rose, 27.02
My words are mislaid and dispersed within your tender, fleshy vessel; like an astrayed entity scouring a nebulous, dense and emulsified forest. I urge you to seek and decrypt these incoherent, defaced words that are buckled and suspended on adhesive webs of strained, charred branches.
— M. Rose
Our bodies confine us in blood and bone. Our means of communication is scratching and tapping on the cement wall dividing our prison cells. You’ll never see the innards of my dark tomb… nor I you.
— M. Rose
If you could, would you choose to forget and set aflame to the inflictions that stench of regret?
– 16.09 M. Rose
You enter the foyer of my mind and your presence alarms me. The door is agape and your ease of access unsettles me.
– 06.11 M. Rose