the softness of the bed gave me night terrors
in the bedroom below ground with no windows
how human to be folded in a city of books and seas of dust.
winter edges a bit closer every day
yet there's no telling which is winter and which is not
since it is all grey.
the house is bent and comfortable but if you trip
you rot
because here water has its way.
no matter how i fought
the mystery went away
i crushed the mirror and tried to eat it
the air we tore asunder in
eyeless argument and
empty thunder
was me holding back
i meant to say
i never cared +
you're too scared
i saw it in the beginning of the end.
find something to say with what you have
not what you dont.
and on the instance of happiness
drink a little wine but kiss
that moment goodbye
as it takes losing something
to even begin believing in it.
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