
Emily Pendergrass
Jan 222 min read
Poem: Atrocious
Lost in cycle we're spinning around. Everything's surface - can't feel the ground. Too many words and too much sound. We're living a circus on a merry go round. Lost all control now - We're spinning out. It's all too loud - ow! . . . Forgotten the feeling of breathing the air - without any reels kinda feels like gills. How to make contact without signing a contract? Privacy policy - to sell all they see. Nobody cares. "No need to worry." No predator stares - more inter














