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Oct 2018
I've killed myself countless times -       I pull the trigger and lay the gun down on the desk.

I peel my brain from the plastic-film,  and draw with crayons.

I seep into the carpet, and I feel a warm hand on my temple.
She walks in
and disrobes

and I see a hole in her.

a deep gray hole  that blends in with the air.        blue light--  and a song
about living in the hills whilst young.


pull out a ******* sandwich,
who told you?       Sit down.  sit over there.          pass it to me.

puzzle piece -- hand-drawn,  lips pursed with heat;  

9-9=  3

I   am still a child sitting   on the bench  ,

and I still hear a crumbling          sun          and   it flows through me without
prejudice
Jay earnest
Written by
Jay earnest  30/M/Socal
(30/M/Socal)   
133
   Fawn
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