DRAFT 30.8.15

I am bluer
than friday night thoughts,
these fridays on your flat
gazing doors and hands.
i'm a self portrait
of decadence,
helpless convenient traits.
i'm dangerous
and ravenous

as late night howls,
and i've been awaken
for four days
in a round.
i know that's just the way,
i don't want to feel
the ground.
i don't want to hear
the crash,
the train over the rails,
the sadness in the rain,
was that a flash?
heartless corpses
never fall apart.

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