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297 · Sep 2016
Untitled
i sat on the decrepit
chesterfield near the
window with a half-empty
bottle of whiskey
and a pack of cigarettes
pondering about death
pondering about trivialities
because i had nowhere to go
the roads were closed
the churches have been burnt
the bars were filled with ******
i was lost
my soul was empty
i have walked the streets
every hour
every day
wearing threadbare overcoats
and fedoras
from the strangers
i slept with
my feet were trying to find
the right path but
i was so lost
the lights have flickered out
the birds have stopped singing
and the madness have stopped
cauterizing my throat

— The End —