Anthony Ward

Kent, UK

Bleeding

I pass through smiles untouched
Avoiding grasping eyes
Laughter cracks like alien vowels
Desolate as forsaken thighs
There I go again with rhynes
To dull inverted rage
There I go a walking
Stifling the silent scream
Bleeding cut the joyless days
Ca voice whispers do no mistake
The ache of self pity for the sea of dreams
I hope to wake
The tourniquet still seems to tight
Ravels as the cloak of night
Enfolding me
Tomorrow opens like a wound
Tomorrow with a thousand spurts
Of crimson stains the skies
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