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vices.there's hell in your eyes, painting them black cesspits that could eat away the stars.
you tell me you need out of your head. the moon pulls higher in the sky, quietly marking the hour. our feet hang over empty air, the tracks below an open casket. you inhale nicotine and exhale burning buildings. smoke curls like fingers into the body of the night.
we're breaking like an ocean. eggshells on pavement.
i can't hold you together,
so you down handfuls of little white pills like peppermint candies.
like if you just keep swallowing, they'll whitewash the walls of your ribcage and purge your dirty heart.
you drink like you're always thirsty,
like you've found the antidote to forgetting.
instead, i hold matches to the dry tinder of my parchment skin to see if it catches fire
to burn down the gosttown of all the things i can't forget.
i dig trenches in my skin to leak out poison pulsing in my veins and the dirty swingset in my bones.
we both have memories we can't kill.
the black in our
h a l f glassIf you were to say to me is your glass half full or half empty.
I would reply with this.
A glass half empty has already filled,
Because you cannot fill a glass empty.
So we have to assume that half of the substance,
In the glass has been taken out.
A glass half empty means you had lots and it has been taken from you,
A glass half full implies there are limitations to ones fullness.
Of both I am neither,
My reply will be,
I drink from the bottle.
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