...open up...

Friday, June 24, 2011


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

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