76 lines
1.4 KiB
Text
76 lines
1.4 KiB
Text
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Seris
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2020-11-22
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***
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embittered by sadness
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emboldened by hope
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one more day, you deny
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the allure of the rope
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the promise of a world
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not far from your hands
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three inches to winter
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not hidden in distant lands
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but the clock is ticking
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and the walls are pressing in
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and you do nothing.
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you just swallow the pain.
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while the number in your bank account
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climbs ever higher
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it's never enough
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to rekindle passion's fire
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he scalpels out your heart
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and leaves in its wake a void
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and replaces your joints
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with hinges from toys
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and parades you around
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on fraying black strings
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and wonders why you no longer
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have the capacity to sing
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with porcelain flesh
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underneath frilly clothes
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he puppets you around
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while your organs drown in prose
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your mind is wandering
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with black holes enthralled:
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life from this point is
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not living at all
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you resolve that, if you are truly doomed
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to live life in constant hollow war:
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you'll farm from the anguish, hopelessless, gloom
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in the respite between arguments, interruptions, chores
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barren land you may be
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but harvest you must
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the words the last thing
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of yours you can trust
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the words bubble up
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from the depths of your throat
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so fast you fear
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you'll start to choke
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hold them within
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right next to your heart
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write it on your skin
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lest it tear you apart
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and shatter the puppet
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your jailer of you has made
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allowing the dreams
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you've incubated to fade
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***
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CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 (c) Vane Vander
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