The Dirty Pleasure

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
"This gun is loaded, devoted, you postulate the rest, riding the seesaw, there's no law that I have ever met, I'm just a flat punk, on dead junk riding a vanguard, cut from the vaunted, I'm haunted til death do us part"

Submitted: July 13, 2007

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Submitted: July 13, 2007

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They say that nothing matters,

And that your life is mine

They'll setyour broken jaw back

Anethetise

I drain the fluids from you

Devoted to the trial

I'll dig your weeping wounds

For messages

Then I feel a pull and posture

A simple psychophant

The dour rain comes falling

On my head

But I never called you out

I never ran you down

I never loved you like I love the hurt

I draw the dawns sweet picture

I caracature in blood

No other vaunted pleasure

Would be enough

To whip sway the dirty moments

Born within my head

A lukewarm reception waiting

By my bed

But I never asked for that

And I never said I would

A man caught between the breeze

And falling leaves

I should have believed

In me.


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