30 August 2010


Debt 8/30

            – and being a hopeless romantic I’ve come to rest upon the word hopeless more

I’m holding the edges of an open wound that is probably not going to heal very well and you’re all just looking at it like it’s some sort of novelty toy

            – I’ve watched the tide come in over the street and stood filling sandbags unblinking in various forms of weather

That is histrionic to the max but you love it what I’m trying to express is the feeling that my heart is flooding and I can’t hear the ocean

            – look at that churchyard filled with all the dead and soon to be dead and tell me that it’s worth something

The cochlea that part of the ear that hears a coil of sound a shell I’m peeling at these onion layers of skin and trying desperately to hold onto something

            – at least everything

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