Who?
Cotton, blood and nerves
Summed up, that's about the extent
No eternal flames flicker six feet above
clouds still shiftless
those beams that carry angles didn’t even shine down
No purpose or place
just a common face
See
there I go trying to impress with clever subtlety
a choice of uncanny words you may bring up on cold nights alone
I’ll be the ghost in the game
spelling out obscenities on a ouji board
The poltergeist has spoken
it excreted nonsense with a pen filled to the top with invisible ink
cheap bastard can’t even afford to write in blood
Zero accolades at this juncture
No love for the dead guy anymore
just rubber bracelets, salt and water
No love for the dead guy at all
a makeshift cross placed lopsided against a median
No love for the dead guy
he made damn sure that it turned out this way
Remember to forget me
it’s the only certainty of my memory at all
it’s all I have when the dirt gets shoveled over this dead guy
the only way to comfort my fall
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