U n d r e s s e d · S p i n e

Rest, pour into the concrete outlines of my concrete bed

And write me another song about narcoleptic nightmares

We’ll wash away the wasted world with chlorine screams

With the rose you left embedded in your chest, and there

We’ll crash all our pendulum promises into the pavement

Lingering shards on your lips, and lodged deep in my pen

I won’t stay in California and burn the palm trees with you

But I’ll bite down on the truth and listen to your halo again.

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Filed under Poetry

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