Poem -


Cannot fix this pain
or spell insane
crawling with those desperate worms
across the lost dogs howl
 mourning of mornings
collected last nights space
knitted another place to play

Silver shoes
tied with my blonde hair
buckles of razor
footsteps sneaking up behind
me this false identity
singer in the wrong song
starved but fed

I sold this soul you grew
its value was too high
carpets of guides
flood into these gouged out eyes
this identity
why did it worship me

Silence will be the save
way beneath another
breaking broken wave

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