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Thursday, February 21, 2008



Crack my eggshell heart on the spine of a book
Watch the bruised and scarred memories spill out in the light of day
Over the pages and into a cracked life
Pain hidden in the dark and under pressure
The book’s words demand their due

The debt is paid with vials of blood
Syringes of synthetic life
Aspirated hope
Inconsolable tears and unfathomable grief
All shed from denial of instinctual needs

Close the pages and return to lying
My world is ok, my soul is happy
Sweep the crimson mess under the smile
Return the empty shell to my chest.

Stupid books up heaving your perfectly manicured emotions.

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