©2022 Michael Raven
i wish it made sense this plagued inner eye desert dust devils twisting in ash thread-clutching black tumbling me rag doll & boneless these headache soulache games pregnant with rot resolving-- is this mere mockery or amethyst shard eyes? stumblestagger back into pits perfumed with rosewater sanguine red bliss cigarette kiss whiskey on honeytongue & this... give me nightshade mirrors not arms to wield pale give me nightgaunts bone & ragged steel kiss heaven is aching & i need pain
sceadugenga 
This is about as powerful as it gets. If I’m reading this right it speaks of the line between depression and (for want of a better word) ‘normality’: periods of flay ‘normality’ cry out for the creation/destruction of depression.
Great poem, Michael.
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Thank you. 🙏
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