Sad Labels:
ambivalence
,
clarity
,
sad poems
,
sad poetry
the crutch whispers. hobbled thieves stumble over each other. in pursuit of why.
the taste of how. both sweet and sour.
in the seldom anesthesia of touch. we are catapulted from our hunger. worn by choices dense enough to drown us.
our voices exhumed. like corpses from neglected graves.
raw faces desperate for skin.
the monsters more melody than dissonance. the humble catastrophes that bear our weight.
the sting of time. the parity of its venom. it's absolute treason. a perfect grief.
the fairy tale withers. under the scrutiny of our breadcrumbs.
the wolf exhales.
confounded.
by the doors we've left open.
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