listen as the silence wells,
can you hear the voice of destruction?
the bloods degradation hangs heavy in
a yellowing room of projected memories
strained through the skeins of smoke
and nostalgia. somehow a line
was crossed that killed potential, nothing
kinetic about this trajectory. the random violence
of a match strike and the nicotine high
that falls short of the need.
the romance of addiction, so lost
we can’t find each other in the same room
.
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