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Image for the poem CRASH

CRASH

Those birds...
Those fucking birds,
with their so called song.
More like mocking laughter,
as the cold morning light
washes over...
My soul stepped out,
3 hours,and 6 lines in.
Now I'm just an empty shell.
Stale remnants linger,
of stimulated nonsense...
Drug conversation.
My face throbs behind my last cigarette.
Bodies lay,randomly across the room.
Fully clothed.
One of which fell asleep waiting for me.
She grew bored of my insignificant energy.
My fast tongue,
could have been used for much better things.
I guess I'll just sit here,
and wait for my spirit to return.
I don't deserve to know where it is,
or where it's been.
Someplace better of course.
An alarm goes off.
Bodies stir.
Keep chirping little birdies...
Keep chirping.
Written by jaspersilence
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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