hurried along
the same mistakes in everything,
the same pretended dying.
were all gone,
thrown to sidewalks and hurried along,
demystified and flying the science, hurried along.
no one lives and no one wants to.
i am only trying to kill you. i am only trying to
sing
you
this
song













Comments
no one lives and no one wants to.
i am only trying to kill you. i am only trying to
sing
you
this
song
fantastic
xo!
--
one half of ~ZombiesAteUs
--
why do writers write? because it isn't there.
thomas berger
no honest poet can ever feel quite sure of the permanent value of what he has written: he may have wasted his time and messed up his life for nothing.
ts eliot
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