NyQuil Poem

This is what it seems to be!
when all inflections bury me
engulfed in liquid sleep and stars
my mind scurries through burning hearts

i am tossed about the ground
flurrying on thought and sound
hidden tripping music weaves
a lonely caustic melody.

the words marched on my tongue
and beat a reluctant retreat
for after beating both my lungs
my teeth forced them into defeat.

someday somewhere the words will fare
far better than here they did;
i will not be able to hide in my hair
the love i refuse to admit.

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