by Ivan Genc
To a typewriter I come with grief and sedatives
Save me from fear, save me from myself
Another cycle of survival, a cycle of running away
This is my last chance, my last escape
The splintered alleys move through me
And the city veins burst out of the road
The blueness does not come out of the blue
And I am here again and within it
Healing hands reach out to me
I can’t help but feel
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
I have found comfort in suffering
****
September 28th.
Daylight...
The monsters have overtaken the city.
Somehow...
Ivan Genc is still alive...