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and we cut as deep as we could
poetry [ ]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
by [blindaswine ]

2008-07-14  |     | 



you no longer trust what you cannot
kill

that there.
is your God

That there
is your dead

walking through walls is the
kindest excuse

monitoring our madmen

eyes that stare like
open wounds

we join thee
wherever scalpels

laugh

and they feed us whatever heals
us

jack is the buzz of
neon lights

jack is as still/ as panic


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