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Sep 2011
The blackness
that fills up the shadows of my mind in the daylight
creeps down my spine, under the stars
and into my blood.
My heart beats are muddled
with these veins full of lead.
Blood splattered walls
and decomposing kindness
are everywhere I turn.
I cannot escape my own violence,
my muscles taut
from a fixation
with unborn iniquity.  

But there is no need for concern.
I run, sprint,
from these nightmarish ideas
and these inky, wicked words
that take refuge
in my dreams.

I awake changed.
My subconscious,
a worthy adversary.
Battle scars, invisible.

Until I close my eyes.
© wordswithmypulse
HR Beresford
Written by
HR Beresford
965
 
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