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Sep 2018 · 704
Cruel Light of Morning
Miguel Legaspi Sep 2018
In the cruel light of morning the summer wounds are fresh from last nights session
Why must I wake up to the rising sun two hours before seven
On the dot, The sun has brought me nothing but sweat and anticipation for a touch that may never come
Foolishly I will wait
I have no choice but to wait and see
The obvious question is if the wait is worth,
If its all its cracked up to be
Though the dreams say otherwise
The dreams, the ******* dreams
Have already foretold the outcome
The cards have fated me
It was over weeks ago from that sleep
I was assured that such a thing was impossible
Out of the question
That no longer will there be a possibility of his face on your cheekbone
**** it all
**** the hands that held mine and all the spit swapped between us
**** the blood on my hands
I tried not to cut deep
But I’m already too far down
So underneath the earth I will lay dormant
But I will wait
For the cruel light of morning

— The End —