stuck in the mud, in the muck of the swamp, with no escape from the slime hidden deep deep down, in the bones of the creatures residing there.
stuck in the tar, in the wet hot cement, while it’s drying and im crying but no sound comes out.
stuck in sky, in the starless abyss, where the moon is asleep and the sun is away and the breathing of the monsters is the echoing song.
the musings of a miss 