arshile

october wind pouring through the holes in the house like a gentle wash of
static and what happens next is everything is taken from you. everyone you
love causes you pain. they're calling out your name but you're already gone.

© Matt Finney

sleeps, dreams

it's the same story repeated until it becomes a religion and i choose not to
believe. i'm sorry for the tyrants and for the weak but i'm not the cause or
the cure. this is what i want my own children to understand.

© Matt Finney

 printer-friendly