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A
poem is never finished, only abandoned. ~Paul Val�ry
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Sensory Overload
What do my eyes see, when I look beyond the stars? Only God knows, how near and how very far I see into the future, above those lying beneath The filth and hate piling up underneath my feet. What do my ears hear, when I open them to the seas? Not the wind, the waves nor the sighing of the trees I hear the past sneak up behind me, standing at my back So close to the disease and heartache,waiting to attack. What does my nose smell, when I inhale the crisp air? Swirling around me, above me, it's always everywhere I smell the stench of death, the putrid air below Wafting from your mouth, as you tell me to go. What does my mouth taste, as it takes you in so deep? Not the salty tang of pleasure, but the after taste of sweat I taste those that came before me, the lingering bitterness That threatens to send me into hell, to push me over the edge. What do my hands feel, when I place them to your chest? Not the beating of a warm heart, not beneath your cold breast The iciness that freezes them to your cold hard skin Sinking deeper into the pits of that which you call sin. raw || truth |