Everything inside of me
is withering up you see;
what of me I wanted to
give to you I had wanted to
be a font, a fountain,
a rushing pulse of wet life,
all bloody and brilliant.
I have nothing left
to give you, though;
the waters within me
are drying up,
leaving me with nothing.
About Catastrophe Jones
Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
You’ll never be left wtih nothing, Jones. That won’t ever happen.