[A Poem] Nothing Serious, Really.
slicing these weary eyes out
until the frozen tears melts
from the insides of this bottle
the reveries, they’re torturing me
the memories, they’re haunting me
the flashes, they’re blinding me
it’s tearing my face up,
a preface for disgrace
and so I watch myself from afar, sulking
from a future without the stars and its constellations
an absence of celestial woes
abstraction of a nightly ghost
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