a future teacher
i am constantly hiding traces
this summer air
makes my brain
melt
sludge
like sex
in the night haze
and no-one suspects a thing
stolen blankets
sucking thumbs
realistically, a suicide mission
my karma
turns me into
mud
blood
fire
drown in the heavy-set
liquid
lungs are concrete
eyes are
misguided
missiles set on flesh
only cadavers sleep/cadavers only sleep
where do i
fit in?
my
father's laugh ricochets inside
my
skull
it's a pale echo
we are our own enemies and we die fighting ourselves, never each other
respectable men perish like dust
Monday, 31 May 2010
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