Wednesday, August 3, 2016

Still Unwelcomed

There's stains in the bathroom sink
Like aborted dreams and memories
There's a lock on the bedroom door
Twisted by the sleepless nights
Sins like dust choke the air
Wishes that death was an option
That a grave might hold warm comfort
Or that anyone would see the hurt
Broken down and drowning in stale water
Can't welcome resignation
Can't stand to fight again

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