December 7, 2009
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Careless in life,
Surrounded by wooden walls,
The brown of aged decadence,
Fallen asleep,
With pale skin clenched tight,
On aquariums of stars drowned in midnight,
Spinning with the soundtrack,
Of the broken record player,
Beating in time to Morse code,
And unstable calligraphy,
Bleaching sounds fall tap- tapping slowly,
White in the clear,
Unseen in the picture frames,
Faces pressed up to broken windows,
Fixed by fog and held by tears,
Overheated without any clothes,
Ice swilling down the throat,
Dirt rooms dry as the desert,
Leave water droplets in suspension from the ceiling,
Grabbing the skin,
And pulling it tight,
Tied underwater,
Breathing through a reed lit on fire,
Souls spinning,
On a broken bar stool,
Legs gutted out,
Cushion held each other desperately by duct tape,
Regretful in life,
Surrounded by broken walls,
A faded brown,
Wide awake,
With no grip,
Staring meaninglessly,
At a sky that is obscured by fog.

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