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Jun 2015
It’s like some heavy mass in the center of yah chest
But you can walk without losing any breath.
A black hole that’ll crush all the meat and bone.
Pulling all the nerves till it collapses on it’s own.
Forever lasting blasting dark thoughts into yah head.
Questions form about the dead.
How will you die if you fry not in a pan
but on pavement or asphalt from a car accident.
Will I burn to death or die from pain.Obscure questions all the same.
It hurts a little, bluntly.
All the sudden it ends abruptly.
Angst
Nicholas Fogle
Written by
Nicholas Fogle  New York
(New York)   
407
   Nikita and Arlo Disarray
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