we’re caught out of orbit,

swept up in this

downpour of

d e s t r u c t i o n

(can you taste the chaos)

we are

itchy fingers on a

quick-trigger-hand-grenade,

minds dancing with delight

at the cold, dark danger,

mouths filled with yesterday’s ghosts

isn’t it

masterful,

the way madness

befalls the weary

– ashley jane

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this love is more than hallmark cards.
the tired and tumultuous.