in a dimmly lit basment
which smells of tea tree
I peace together an evening
nod off under this canopy peacefully
she comes to me
somewhere inbetween dreaming & sleep
it reaches deep within me
brings me up the stairscase to the pit patter of sleet
my veins slowly creese
each & everyword just has so much more meaning
& I think a picnic in the graveyard would be lovely
the same way I think about leaving...how itd be so freeing...
I have so much left to create before that evening
every event so seemingly haunting
taunting my very meaning...as if testing my being
Im left here breathing
sighs of relief
signs of the time
sign of the beast
line after line after line.
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