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 Jan 2014 poetry
rained-on parade
I want to tell you
everything.

Everything there is
to know about me.

About how I ran from
the highest hill down
to feel the air push
me behind.

Once I bent down
before God
and asked Him to give me
death over happiness.

I used to believe that
dust was nothing but
dead memories
fallen away from us.

I will tell you everything.
If only you asked.

Because I want to.

I want to give you
a piece of my mind.
I want you to get
inside the mind that controls
this melancholy body.

I want you to get
inside the chambers of my heart
and wrest dark secrets
from its broken symphonies.

Fix it.

You?
I will tell you anything.

— The End —