January 6, 2010
Eyes pierce my fragile brain
they smother each nerve
sending electroshock rhythms to my temples
all the memories trudge back
like nails on a chalkboard
photo still shots flash like fireworks
every mistake of every word
five hundred and forty seven flaws
five hundred and forty seven lies
each costing more than the last
bombing my mind like fire crackers
nothing can re-do nerve damage
and Albert was buried with time travel plans
so as eyes stare daggers into Baby Girl's brain
thoughts of electroshocked nerves turn wet
do wrists cut like butter
and do butter knives imply such a thing
neverending regret
over five hundred and forty seven days later
does all evil end deadly
and would god reach a humbled hand
so as eyes pierce a faded brain
electroshock turns wet

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