deepundergroundpoetry.com

Harder Work

Shut those lungs,  
they breathe too heavy with words and phrases that hurt the skin  
and dig in to my eyes but hey, ho,  
we move on quickly to self-loathing in clothing  
that reaks of your detection, of my deflection, of cynical rejection  
when choosing not
to be alone.
Written by ImperfectedStone (The Gardener)
Published
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