deepundergroundpoetry.com
I AM THE DEAD
I've been killed here before.
A shameful name is carved on the wall,
and my blood is on the floor.
I remember fading out,
turning feeling into flavors,
on a passing storm cloud.
Hands that are always fists.
It's the only touch I get
so please beat me down.
Impervious to loss,
there's a click beneath my skull.
A tick that sounds like song.
Drowning out the words of cold empathy.
Leave me here...
A shameful name is carved on the wall,
and my blood is on the floor.
I remember fading out,
turning feeling into flavors,
on a passing storm cloud.
Hands that are always fists.
It's the only touch I get
so please beat me down.
Impervious to loss,
there's a click beneath my skull.
A tick that sounds like song.
Drowning out the words of cold empathy.
Leave me here...
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