short poem (Remove filter)
Missing Soul
I come to at half past three
in the middle of the night
and these images won't erase
I'm haunted by the tape
once it is light
your hands disappear
my brain is mine
and my limbs come crawling back
but the tape keeps playing
I know there's no escape
because night always falls
then I fall into you
and my mind leaves me
with no thoughts left to think
I make my way
the void is frictionle...
Friday 5th October 2018 2:51 am
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