Thursday, 29 October 2015

In Recent Days

This time I'm
Giving up the ghost
Living under the illusion that
You were here
It hurts less
To be angry
Still in the dark
But running blindly in rage
Seems easier than in grief
Both fuel my art
But in different ways
In some years
The butterflies will die at your name
And the numbness
Will wash away the words
Carved deep into stone with our fingers
And the ink & paper
If deemed important enough
To pop culture
Might stand the test of time.

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