gunhold for 500

maybe it’s time

to sell

to the highest

bidder.

perhaps then,

id get a farce

i could deal with.

maybe.

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always lost, always alone.

felt the tingle

just now,

for the first time

in a while.

funny though,

there doesn’t seem to be

a point to it

anymore.

maybe that’s why..

maybe,,,

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the impossible death

i see you.

and i so wish

i could be

what you need.

i understand you.

so well,

perfectly

if possible,

and i want

to fill that space.

i hear you.

i do.

so loudly

it overwhelms

my own voice

and everyone else’s as well..

and i want

so badly

to give you

what you need.

cause i know what that is.

and i know that i can.

and i know

that im built

for that ship.

but heres the thing,

i know, that you see me

and so i know

that i,

am just not

the one.

i can’t be.

because you cant breathe me.

and so,

i know that i can’t be,

’cause i,

see

you.

 

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no rhyme. or reason. 

if the wind never blew

and the leaves never moved

and the sun didn’t shine

on that space in the slate

we would never have known 

what lay beneath 

the scars of the world 

in that hidden echo

of us. 

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Barren

Whatever. 

Fucking whatever. 

It’s so damn obvious 

that I was never supposed to be. 

So you opened my eyes

To the hypothetical 

Of what I “could have been”

If it was better

Or different 

Or fair. 

But it’s not. 

And I never will be that. 

I’m just me. 

And me

Is not worth

The blood

Dripping down

My thigh. 

I just need to figure out

How to undo

This game you played

With my head. 

Get back to me. 

To what I really am. 

And we all know

What that is. 

Or maybe I’ll get lucky 

And never have to know 

What happens 

Next. 

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flutter bye

I dreamt of you

in muted tones

while sorrow banged swift

at the panes

and the world spun too slow

it’s axis now bent

while the wind 

blew my dreams

far away.

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haunted switch

i don’t know where the love is kept

or where it’s s’posed to be

or if in time like turpentine

it wears the scars from me..

can’t help but look to see if it’s

indeed a thing one holds

or maybe just a fleeting beat

encased in foolish gold,

I’ve looked in jars,

in old cocoons,

in nests that weren’t mine

in saturated fields of blanks

submersed in bittered brine,,

in deeper seas and narrow lakes

and tears that looked like rain

i swam into the netherworld

on limb to ease life’s pain,

still don’t know

don’t think i will

i’m the fool that holds the bag

of sad indecent forgeries

in bottle stuffed with rag,

and there in flames

that lick my wounds

and douse the barest hope

lay i in bloodied blinded search

tied down with devils rope.

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