poem by: Braverman Waltz
Written on Aug 08, 2017

This difference is nothing but the same repeated over and over,this light burning.these angels holding guns smoking cigarettes lie,always lying,and the night is warm again.this itch is annoying,the movie on pause waiting and the thought about changing my bedding I'm not to sure of.scramble this puzzle,its costing me too much stop the air from coming into my lungs it's way to fresh way to breathable,and who are you? This bitterness however ugly and real it still breathes it lives like skin around my heart suffocating owning controlling,demanding nothing but the best.I'm not tired anymore I'm lost,lost in the deep in the thick of dark consumed by light the darkest light that which is good only when secure.I close my eyes to feel tired I fake it to feel something anything,I type frustrated and worried anxiously willing distorted and loud singing under the hum angry in the light.....who am I?human.




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