A few lines to cross.

By Phalanx

I walk out of my skin.
I rub the underbelly of all you are.
I'll break bones against your back.
You don't walk, you march.
You got to make breaks for living and forgetting the otherside of death.
I love you so ugly.
Come back home where boards creeek and crawl across the floor.
There's just this level and nothing else.
The only reason I pulled you from being, was to keep you for myself.
I ralphed on my shoes like I knew what I was doing.
You have to blend in when you mix with the idiots.
They act like they actually own something.
This wreckage has spare parts.
Dress nice and we'll pretend like we breathe.
Something back in the day walks all over myself.
Change this stance and break a stove over my head.
I'm that hard.
This was the way we met and I search for sounds in time
That stop and go like a carefully placed plan but,
Nothing comes that easy.
We have a space to create and lie ourselves to sleep.
I'll break your memory against my guitar and pretend...
I like it here, where we imagine we didn't die.
It starts with me facing myself.
It ends with me.

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Copyright 2015 Phalanx
Published on Thursday, December 3, 2015.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "A few lines to cross."

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  • sIo On Saturday, October 3, 2020, sIo (898)By person wrote:

    You have to blend in when you mix with the idiots....this is different than a lot of your work somehow. Maybe its just me.


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