Blurry Tensions

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Frustration pours over the skull brimming full
Filling thoughts of hopeless hole, dug in my adolescence
My screams are not of joy, but of compulsion
This dance has gotten old, but the music doesn’t stop
The third eye blinks and misses the point
Full on freak out, court-dates and empty beer bottles replace the innocence of sober Saturday morning cartoons
Innocence raped in the back-alley, stronger for the experience? Weaker for the defense.





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