Monday, October 12, 2009

Scripted confidence

is unleashed a mangy wolf.

No one knows

I cannot read brains like a mirror.

Sometimes I forget

to breathe while talking.

My lungs squeeze

to mother spurious phrases.

Confused signals

father shrapnel in my eyes.

Lord, help me

find what I want to say

before Death

extinguishes my mind

and my solipsism

becomes a garden of ashes.

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