2:37PM 07.27.2019 Creative Writing Exercise #3

left bereft
you feel numb
the ever-present threat
of false love
patterned true
skinned by the chips
taken off of you
the slicing of open marks
salt rubbed in
the burning smell of being fucked again
a circle so small
you flee into subconscious
deep to sleep
as if relief is beyond
the scope of this flesh

the sickness and disease
the mold and decay
the cracked and the torn
the film of dust or slicks of grime
it even pollutes your mind
sinking you in depths
of mental fog, in the
humid peaks of summer

the rack of care
the neglect, the wrought copper
the stench rank of ruination
acrid bittersweet

inability to take deep breaths
stagnant energy
with dysfunction as its blueprint
the broken shed and
hinged door

shifting, quickening
relapsing, collapsing

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