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© Delia Ross. 2022 / @poeeternal

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Edgar Allan Poe died on the street because of this bullshite

He didn’t make it past 40 without love (which happened to be his blood cousin – not through marriage – but blood relation – uhm incest)

I’m gonna throw up 🤢

Still. He is tattooed on my bone. And skin

“Earth is lying”

A constant reminder

I’m just a former shell of all I could’ve been

I hope somebody in heaven still loves me

Closing shop but still sinning at my private clubhouse where it seems the Devil and crows have gathered

I don’t find the crows ominous at all

They bring me gifts and blessings

I crawled deeper in the hole – cuz I don’t know how to leave well enough alone – and I’ve never been more frightened in my life

Edgar was a Soldier

The enemy is in the White House

“I’m that program in the system doing what it’s not suppose to…”

Literally programmed to make a mess

This is why heaven is empty

Nobody wants me here

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