They speak

and they move like dead in the
deaf
depths

and they shift like sonnet soliloquy
sung by
a choir of me

sometimes my heart can't understand
what it's feeling

what the words say

Sometimes my heart can't understand
what It's writing

with a sad whimper
a sick bellow of soundless breath
it echoes

my arts death

cliche

sick


no meaning

just like me

It moves

but does not breathe

It says goodbye

and slowly leaves



my last poem

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