in empty halls i find solace
sitting on the floor
head against the wall
eyes shut to the cracking plaster
i hear my heartbeat; signs of an ear infection,
from hearing all that black smoke you call
conversation.
legs crossed, i wait, head bobbing in a sea of
hit the heartbrakes
biding my time
enjoying the brief moments of forgetfulness, when i can sleep, ignoring
each
buzz
of your mind.
Once was enough, but I've always been too nice.
and now it's time to finally pay
that price.
******* and **** your abuse spencer; old poem from early june.