Tuesday, December 14, 2010


They are the roaches
Or something akin to it
We convert them into; with our piety

I saw a phantom
A thin specter of the friend I grew up with
And felt the hurt, of his body

You fell as the walking dead
the drug put you between both worlds
It feels more and more like your there

I don’t know what Aichmophobia really means
never believe in hierarchy
because of our mutual footing, I call you brother

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