Poems from Amandalura
Roaring fireplace,
Burning all of the letters,
Before the cops come.
The room has a sour smell,
The rotting corpses of dreams are now evident.
Nothing comes here to flourish,
Everything that enters here...
I am stuck in a box.
A box that was built by others,
The nails driven in by their minds.
I can't act like I want to get out of the box,
Or...