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Feb 2017
A short burst of substance
A **** in my self pride
Spurn this when it happens
Deep below it hurts
It’s like I am the police men
Chasing down the crime
The arched loop of uncertainty
Crawls and begs for life

It nests in my bold vertex
A lukewarm spot to thrive
I’ll slam the cortex open
And free the sweltering hive

The queen of pain herself
Is the painkiller of the queen
They waltz around like harlequin
I’m gently howling, awaiting help
Wayfarer
Written by
Wayfarer  London
(London)   
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