deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nassim
Killing us with a cotton death
Instead of an axe
Slow painless breath
Medication
They ask
No I haven't taken it
Do I plan on going home?
The rantings are deemed insane
But you utter the same
As the dark solace of your cotton pillow
Lulls your troubles to sleep.
Instead of an axe
Slow painless breath
Medication
They ask
No I haven't taken it
Do I plan on going home?
The rantings are deemed insane
But you utter the same
As the dark solace of your cotton pillow
Lulls your troubles to sleep.
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