TOO BLEACH the night
every day / a mind
spinning around
SOME days are rivers
loaded with white-capped
questions/she does it again
\to die forever within her
arms — always to be true/
Growing up and
growing down so a little
thing tearing at my friends
–the littlethings that kill
;; cupboard empty as we starve
who you are : always knew
: growing up and coming down
so too bleached this night
tearing at my brain /every\
never spinning around
are these little things
that kill.
July 4, 2020
BLEACH THIS NIGHT
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