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Luna Jay Dec 2018
The walls,
They fall.
The minds,
They crumble.
The teeth,
They shatter
On contact
With your words.
The skin suits,
They wither.
The single identity crisis,
They splinter.
Into a man’s
Multiple personalities.
The tears,
They spill.
The spines,
They chill,
The hope,
They lost forever and
A day ago.
And nothing is left
But the measly foundation;
Rotting and infested
With termites.
Krizhe Ming Sep 2018
How is it even possible
To wander so far
Get lost and tired
Only to find myself
Back where I was before?
Oh c'mon... is this some kind of a joke
**sigh**

— The End —