infection creating the breaking disease
control your electrophile static fuck people impulses
i am not here for you
black scattered ink over hundreds of pages
a word from each of them to revive the body
and write this rework of too many assumptions
towering control board fuck lit backwash of a mind
two souls and a harvester
turn one blind eye to the world and the other looks inside the holes riddling this bone white nightmare
this goddamned cataclysm of broken thought
it numbs me
sweet anesthesia
necter of the fucked
the quotent is written with bloody tampons
the mark is made in dust
tolmes
too many tolmes
too many hands reaching out to touch the walls around my body
not enough silence to make the world with out me
scratching words across the door with bloody finger
the blood was never mine but we'll let it linger
whisperer
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/4378/76027 on Friday September 05th, 2008 10:43 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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