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I can’t write for fear of a broken tongue, burning as a

Spiraling monster spilling out confused thoughts;

Ideas traveling from top of head to roof of mouth

 

Why speak when the noise is heavy, serving only as a

Constant reminder of fragile ears hearing rumors;

Weighted down truth from what is and what isn’t

 

Maybe blinded eyes see more than what we perceive of them

—————————————————

Where do you house your hate?

To be pulled out when needed

To lose mouth for virtue of wit

Or, what you choose to believe as such…

———————————————–

I slipped on the edge and fell

Down into the hole of hell

No one dares to look into the well

Claiming innocents of ourselves

—————————————————

To read is to acknowledge The Others, controlled as

Writers in waiting to avoid the contact with oily flesh;

Skin’s difference of one person vs the next

—————————————————-

Hate

I feel it beat

Break, burn, bleed

The heart is weak

 

Greed

It’s not me

I am healthy

How disgusting

 

Anger

Or is it despair?

I wander aimlessly

Deciphering the difference

 

Hope

Always constant

Perhaps a bit cynical

But it’s there

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