Poetic

Heathen grace

And with a smattering of congenial disgust
I catch the fate of this feeble mind, steeple chaser, remiss crime.
A spear tip gut, entrails gush, propane cut.
Looking for the one, knuckle-white clinger for every last grain of disdain.
For the one had got away, gotten on for a song, adorn
The disgrace of erring heart, stain of blithe man.
Disaster passed her, laughed a great one, karma come undone.

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Poetic

Nowhere Mare

I am not here
So I can never leave
Nor can I just remain
What I once breathed lies moribund
Where I once flourished stands a ghost town
When I smiled it was once true
And you, you always knew
Coloured me happy, taught me pride
For you are it, and it is you
Don’t you value my fight
About as harsh as I value my being

Where is my faith
Where is my agency
Where is my grace
Where is my spine
Now where is the crack
What’s up with this face
What is this fucking awful place.

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