The World

August 15, 2016
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The world
in all its splendor
is not built of gold
It is not rosy sunrises
and punch out stars

The world  is built
of writhing corpses
and violent winds
of bloody twilights
and bloodier dawns

The world is
racing through veins
seared into hearts
each blood cell branded
with its own calling card

The world is
walking barefoot
across broken beer bottles
skin forever lost
in the simple struggle
of never slipping

The world is
the only place in a galaxy
you'll find bandages


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