It seems I have devoted very little time to my own thoughts lately. The world is so interesting, there is so much to take in. I'm reading listening watching almost nonstop. I think it may be dulling me down from a sharp point to a rugged nub.
the wind through the windows hits me and rolls over
I roll over
empty space full mind
images of me slipping through time
like home video on an 8mm camera
video of me now full of static
like a B movie
disappointment
the spaces between these steps like..like last breaths
the space between me and the mirror
there is so much between
love and disgust
it doesn't have to be broken to break your heart
six days on one day gone
the black ghost at my bed
all those ghosts in my dreams
all those memories
hide with me in the bunker
I'll put up pictures and write songs and phrases
I'll try to put forgotten names with distant faces
the only standard is the standard of me
everything and everone ceases to be
the red orange flame engulfing
the ashes fall and burn the dirty heart on my sleeve
fun, fun, forgotten lost in something
put on the costume of someone who cares
try to be civil and silently stare
no reply no wild eye
nothing no one not here
not anywhere
the streak is done
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