.blink.
I tasted heaven- in her tears
and breathed a bittersweet breath. of acrid emotion
amotion. of self.
and break me down in the process.
punch-drunk and bereaved. head hung low.
thinking. of this first taste of defeat- on the brink of relief
gritting teeth- with broken dreams
and self afflicted semi-something. no.
it's nothing in the least.
at least. that's what she said to me.
.breathe.
but never blink- life exists on the brink
between what we live and what we see.
and what we hate- it's impossible to retrieve.
and no. I'll never fucking believe.
a despondant- redundant, rhetorical piece.
of illusion. dillusion seems to bring.
brokendown peace. there's a choice- or so it seems
retracing starplexed voices
and noises that mark the decease. and we're lost.
the cost of the dream
is inevitable. someone save me.
.fail.
we're invisible.
life is lived on the edge of credible.
and tonight. I'll just be.
yes. I'll just be.
© 2006 Six-Out
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Printed from www.DarkPoetry.com/dp/98/77130 on Monday July 07th, 2008 01:52 AM
Certain elements © 1996-2008 Matthew Steven (matts.org)
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