If I had a soul, it would be crushed
but there isn't much left
inside of this chest
A wreck of a mess
The information settles
as I scribble out each potential line
Since lately it's hard to find
any words that work
The pictures go in and out
Like recalling a bad dream
And it seems that all hope lives
in puddles of piss
and shit passes through the pipes
Of every city
...open up...
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