they say time heals all wounds.
and yes this is the way my mind works,
especially now, watching you twitch
and bitch about what a wanker you've been.
no memory tender enough to keep
or cling hold to when all remains
are bleak whispers of the soul.
end meets the indefinite the
end is the inevitable the
end is the tears splatting
on old cracked feet.
washing
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