get back
boot strap
pulled up by the very thing
that beat you down

cars and crazy vibes
psychotic love
that tries but hides

the city streets are
white with exhaustion
blurry and brilliant
as pale men
try to fabricate
a clearer tone

no dinner
and no bars
hearts and minds
made of scars

walking with winter ghosts down main street
i want to hear the birds sing once more

no respone
black noise or
no noise
sitting by a fire
one more beer
and no more texts
one last deep swallow
to wash all the passion away
and in the background
a solo organ with drums
searching for that final beat

we all have a familiar theme

no normal humans are we
set to see
walls of

and i find writing on
the odd side of the page
to be unnerving
forget theses small,
small words
we are none of us great
just relevant in our own way

no words
just filler
it’s a goddamn killer

the gods can forgive
the whinos and junkies
but weakness in good men
will not be tolerated

i’ve switched from
liquor to tea
in hopes of
and escaping karma (it doesn’t work)

sick and tired
of being
sick and tired
there’s no toughness left
so we let it bleed through
into someone something new

we erase memories
like wildfires
but the ashes still persist

sudden addiction
is it all just a
hollow fiction

uneasy sedition
leads to
corrupted submission

and i always try to fly on broke wings



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