VICTIMS

The rushing breaking numbs my skin
Each tender flood-thought pouring in
I need to sleep and let my eyes down
Close the weeping, gate the sick-town

Each wailing warmth,
Each bleeding heart –

I NEED THE SCREAMING-STONES TO STOP
so I bump my head and numb my death

I chill my bones in liquid groans and wait for it to set;
I suffer like a FOOL UNWORTHY
biting back self-sympathy
The pain I feel is fractional, how dare I be testimonial

JUST HELP ME STEM THEIR BLEEDING, PLEASE

then let me writhe in peace. 

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