Poetry

Becoming unsteady 
at points of darkness. 
 
Tinged with blue 
I am ready for the unspoken departure. 
 
How to reach out― 
for a situation, which was not? 
 
You sleep on the floor 
to hear the earth’s agony. 
 
A helix― surrounds the 
imperfect creation of unsavory thoughts. 
 
Abusive was the creator, 
The evil had a beauty in destruction.