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Mar 2021
As the night settles to simple silence,
My brain seeds in diminished doubt,
Waters it with cold contempt and waits.

Waits to grow lonely compliance,
And the inevitably harvested fallout,
The lungs and heart equally bates.

Bates the breath and feeling both,
As thoughts collect sowed dissent,
And into the broth they’re swiftly stirred.

Stirred until they take a boiling oath,
And hateful knee truly bent,
So that notion of self fully blurred.
My mind trying to make sense of itself
Bartholomew Welles
Written by
Bartholomew Welles  29/Cisgender Male/KC, MO
(29/Cisgender Male/KC, MO)   
  464
   Imran Islam
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