Unusual Speakings

September 14, 2010
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The wind speaks to me

Coming and going

Luring my life to unravel

My heart weeps and my toes freeze

The thought of you brings a flood

to my eyes

Knives stab into my chest

The day grows old

Night sneaks up on this lost soul

The cardboard box calls for me once


I climb in, trying to get snug

My thoughts collectively come back

to me

During the weakest hours of thee


Shoving you away from me. . .

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