The Clock Ticks Forever

Dark hours of the morning Spent taking loneliness in the chest. Solidifying inside you In a way you can’t remove.   Nights pass like wind through the leaves; The darkness descends. Leaning on us. Locking us inside.   Tea stains and cigarette breath – A faded spirit in the dawn. Thousand yard stare, Lost through …

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At Night I think of Pancakes

I hear engines in the night Shelling the armour Of my mind With its empty walls Buffeted against the tall dark.   These bittersweet hours of pain Spent in the trenches of my mind, Where artillery falls untamed With no regard for human life As profundity strikes hard.   Surges of creativity. Straw sculpture atop …

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