fibers rearranging love
lost to oneself hip towards bone
ripped from spine along the side
no siren on sight, spit have to hold
I am commited to see this story through
so I kneel, crawl and implore take another's soul
I am that petty and count the years with tremendous avarice
wasting day after day with abandon that sun alone cannot purge.
think I may try
to lace the night with
temper, oblivion a triumph
matching the pulse that drowns
the feeling that sways dangerously
close to the ledge over there where beaty
is found. cloud 9
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