There is a hole in my brain That allows the spirits to seep through. I can walk through the houses that held the bodies in life, and know the spirits of the damned. I listen to their weeping, as I lay on the couch. I Hear them Cry as I wash the dishes. I walk the streets that held their houses, and watch them gasp for breath from non-existant lungs.
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Showing posts from November, 2016