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Jan 2014
an unbearable icy wind is plowing
down the darkened city streets
i pull my coat tight around my neck
and fumble for my lighter
for some reason i think the embers
smoldering at the end of a coffin nail
will keep my body warm
my hand doesn’t seem to mind being
chilled to the bone because now
i seem to live only in those spasms
of fire and giddiness in hope
of being brought to the edge
and having the courage or the stupidity
to jump off
but all the streetlights jeer at me
flickering as i stumble homeward
and i cannot help but feel that i too
am slowly being burned
around the edges
K David Mitchell
Written by
K David Mitchell
671
 
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