Roughly as poetic as a bag of smashed arseholes.







Scribble back.


Friday, 3 December 2010

2. Sleeping dogs

These are not the things I need!
This is not the love I long to see!
She will be beautiful, yes, but oh - unhealthy
So
Please salvage yourself from the broken bones
Of the body you’ve beaten that remains a home
To my meanings of you
I never wanted to leave you like this;
This distance, this anguish, this paranoia
I’m so scared of dragging you further
Down
Should I let sleeping dogs lie?
What if this dog is the thing that keeps me alive?
What if my constant is making you sick?
How can I justify my love for this?
Maybe
It will be better
If I leave it be
Confusion.

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