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Sleeping Sickness

July 16, 2016


By your ego.
I was destroyed.
Ego as in id.
As in death urge.
As in Freud.
As in the lengths we go to.
For shelter.
To survive.
So how can I blame you?
Why wouldn’t you avoid?
That sick eye.
Carving you like a territory.
Pleading like a beaten curr.
Bleeding emperor.
Leper god of self consumption.
And predatory censor.
It is what it is.
And what it is.
Is its nature.
A kiss in the rain.
A rap on the door.
Its nature is its station.
And it can never be more.


From → Poetry

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