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Jul 2014
I am blind
Not the blackened eyes
Hollowed out with a spoon
The worse kind
Seeing each angle
in the street's shadows
and the hesitations
in the walls
Frantically searching
for something to feel
Or whatever once
enlightened me
But those mercies have died
and like the young teeth through which
I've sadly lied
The light, the candle, the dripping wax
Solemnly blend into my oblivion

-cj
smallhands
Written by
smallhands
206
 
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