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What Murders Me Most

the chilling arbitrarities

of steps and thoughts and fallacies

the colors of the changing leaves

are tired warning signs

 

when each and every passing dawn

rips through me like a lover's yawn

I lay alone the curtains drawn

with consolation bled and gone

I can't escape the lie

I'll miss you when you die

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Written by
joe-hill
30 / M / American
Published
Feb 27, 2015
Lines·Words
10·54
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