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RMatheson
Poems
Jun 2015
Highway Setting Sun
My head sets on the horizon,
aflame with impending doom
scuttled like a sinking ****,
burnt and begging.
My hydrogenic mass defeats you,
surfaces spread thin like oil
on glass and there is only one way out -
immolation.
Sun-soaked dust clouds rain
their bitter truths on the
spires of steel antennae
violating my mind.
Written by
RMatheson
Beating tired bones
(Beating tired bones)
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Awesome Annie
,
its gonna make sense
,
NV
,
From Jess's Lips
,
Monique Matheson
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