Sunday, July 25, 2010

a broken trend.kill

& coughing up blood from the dirt of graves
I was barely there
splayed in naked innocence

I was left in the remnants of a broken dream
sideways shaken
& sunday slit..

I have died in the ways one only can in love
where in between the spaces it fades to gray
hell.bent against the finality of things

....& gasping I see
crumbling in my self preserving hands
that darkened spot where hope rots in free minds

these are the overtones of a spiritual rebirth...

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