Indecent Inflictions
Indecent Inflictions
Have I woken up in a place I’ve never known?
Commonality is a depth I seem unable to fathom.
Do I give of what I’m asked; but what’s mine is also your’s?
I seem to have wrongly assumed I am.
The assassin of love is not failure in itself;
The killer is degrees.
Degrees that inflict and destroy; and accompanied always---
By those thoughtless justifications.
People don’t really drown in their own tears;
And if they fall to their knees they still breathe.
Though its mending may take many years;
Nobody really dies from a broken heart;
Since she’s been gone I feel only with my heart.
This is it for now; but tomorrow is another day;
And limb by limb my craft takes shape.
For from this desolate island of loneliness I will escape.
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