18.6.07

Hurumpfh

I was walking
down the empty streets til the night sinks in,
and steals out
from under my feet
All sense of reason gracefully
whisked away,
the sun is setting but we're soon all forgetting,
Our memories of
twisted sheets wrapped around bare ankles,
screams echo off the ceiling
And those who lay in pleasant captivity recommend all the things they're
pretending to be.

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