Poetry Blog by The Black Bile (Fifth)

A Toxic Turn Of Events
 That Set In Like Cement.
I Never See The Truth ‘Till I’m Cornered.
I’ve Never Seen The White Of Your Eyes.
Every Word She Spoke Was Important.
She’s Coming, I Know, In Good Time.
(My Lips Are Cold)
Where Do You Go 
When You Can’t Rest At Home?
My Indian Tricks Won’t Last For Long.
Seeing Ahead And Falling Behind.
In My Pace, I Know My Time.

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