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Nick Burns Aug 2018
My alarm clock screams.
Been awake for three hours;
so ahead of the game,
unaware of my powerless range.

I’ve been tossing, turning, creaking,
coming up with new names;
another attempt to link together
all of my fireless plains.

Hey, I’m running on fumes.
Hey, I’m Eugene Tooms;
stretching, twisting, warping,
got you reaching for clues.

It’ll all come together,
posted up in a small room;
just typing up a dichotomy
of life as a lifeless plume.
Nick Burns Aug 2018
relation devolved:
a walk to a crawl?
relation evolved:
adapted free-fall
to death
or to life,
in the wake
is a funnel
in disrepair:
a lost time
after ma’am’s,
after misters;
no need
for callous,
just blisters.
raw puppy eyes
converge
in the sky
as our lids
slowly close
over waste.
Nick Burns Aug 2018
We’re both homesick;
I need you and
she needs peace.
Nick Burns Aug 2018
To everyone, I’m a vampire.
Not to them, but to me.
Know what I mean?
Sustenance is consequence
and I’m convinced
You were convinced
And ever since
The sky repents.
It screams for me!
For forgiveness.
For love and hate
And all between.
You’re a vampire to me
But not to you, I mean.
Do you see?
I’m sure you see.
Nick Burns Aug 2018
i’m at a service
for someone i didn’t know
but wish i had, i suppose
you never said much
but now it means more
yet i’m still an outsider
without feelings about her
as your insides knot up
and your son can’t understand
i’m a phantom at best
with an invisible hand
Nick Burns Jul 2018
I wrote in circles like a vinyl ******, but still running, and bounded over what could have made the story wholly forgiving.

I am the only one
to ever hear
exactly what I said:

I cannot begin
to tell you how
this might end.
Nick Burns Jun 2018
you’ll probably be
more sorry when
you’re dying
stopping wrongs
from writing
please stop trying
stop chasing dawn
still
about waking up
on lawns
quit

you’ll probably be
more sorry when
the light goes
out tonight those
doors
aren’t windows
time heals
but when though
we’ve been closed
an illuminated end grows
quick
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