Saturday, November 30, 2013

The spiral

The spiral echoes from the dead
A dark empty vessel
Torment abounds
The yellow bottle has my name on it
The clouds move
I reach for something to grab, hold
My soul is calloused
Like a mouse in the wheel
The spiral echoes from my head
I have dug many graves
A dark empty vessel
The shovel has my name on it
The world spins
I try to turn off my thoughts
My brain is corrupted
Bacteria on the edge of the dish
It calls out to me
Take a deep breath, close your eyes
You are not alone.
Some graves are shallow
The spiral echoes from the heart
A dark empty vessel
Torment abounds

B




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