Flat White. It's always the slamming of doors that gets to me.
The ease of departure.
The simplicity of distance.
The cruelty of silence.
It's always the ones slamming doors
that get on my chords
in complete disharmony
- a music of the devils
in my head, going
BOOM BYE BOOM.
It got to the point where
I see doors closed and I wonder
if it was by choice or by ignorance.
There - this is my take on
slam poetry.
