12 August, 2015


The mysterious dead are dead
I cut you out of me
before learning your name
or how your voice sounded when laughing
Now you are the bloodied ghost
of broken love
Mass graves inside minds, lost to time
When will we be free from ourselves
Will those trashed souls ever be found

Whomever they were, they are lost now
You are lost, because I said so
Baking in the sun, wasted

I was not courageous enough
Those with courage
are cut open, to spill water
They burned them and threw them in dirt
And laughed at their own clever depravity
But when given the choice to cut or to sow
I do the very same
Mysteries stay unsolved, veins split open
with machetes and unkindness
Clues are vacuumed out, miscarried

I will never be free from myself
Actions are machetes, splitting open souls
and They will never be found

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