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covered by gray skies
sheltering us from the light
for now protected
wasting away here
precious resources now gone
currency is spent
 Aug 2018 Ann Beaver
JL
In brief: scalpel words so cheap
Misanthropic cold compress
Jaded and hard in denial
Heavely Medicated without
Prescription

Mute Pain
Guilt soaked peace
Once more
At least
On this rock
I’ve built my church
And drunk of this poisoned cup
Enough

Salted sigh the spike
Do not resuscitate
For the bones of it
Are a pistol cool pressed
To a temple
Derelict  

Sleep without rest
Please, one more breath
Vein or scar
Blood loss
And the cost:
Everything
The cracks and lines from where you gave up, they make an easy man to read
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