Hunt 9/8
I’m tired of love
Of the game – the endless parade of candy
There is a loss here – my head is hurting
I’m tired of everything that is
There is no there there – no – there is
but it is a quietly roaring hated there
I’m tired of throwing arrows
Slinging the energy of myself into the world
There are fibrous strings leashing onto strangers
I’m tired of being drugged
Dragged around by my hopeless naïve sentimentality
It’s a field of clover bending under the sun’s hand
I’m tired of myself
Of being hopeless – of the taste of blood in my mouth
I’m very tired of not getting what I want
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