4 Sep 2014, 8:53am
Writing
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The inventory leaf

Leftover canvas
Soul prick
Just a sheet, a winding sheet
Love from a corpse
you acknowledge, you know
You did a Beautiful thing with yourself
It involved a pencil, and a brush
Afterwards there was Smoke, a needle
Some smothering with a gas rag

No one cares about you the way you imagined they would
That’s something I have to remind myself of
each morning when I put on my mask
No one deserves to know me
Whatever I give them, let them live with that

But oh How the roof leaks
It is old

I don’t know how to pay for things that don’t last
They aren’t real
My rusty elbow reminds me I have to take my exercise

Cars people houses
Strip clubs
Beheadings
It’s easy to see how it all gets reduced
And imparted with something like a mild sort of ecstasy

The Milky Way

I feel like a killer
I should be
Painting nude little wasps in my bedroom

I might as well have just put out a camp fire
The hard way

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