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Mar 2012
Every stumble
Every heartache
Every pain
Every frustration
Every disappointment
Every aspect of waking in the morning
With the repulsive taste of gall in my mouth
Leads me to a forest of bleakness
Builds inside of me a bastion of insouciance
That protects me from the bitter barbs
Of emotional constraints
That prevent me from drowning my mind
In the empty void of null
This flesh is a prison for my mind
Let me destroy it.
Let it become nurturing soil.
Devyn Batchelder
Written by
Devyn Batchelder
803
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