Anxious Appeal

bulidup to bigger breaths from the edge of every bed. pressure filled from somewhere in some sidestreet soliloquy you once forgot you said; and since forgotten thoughts all haunt your head. the anxious quilt to cover up until you pull a thread. and up and down, and lost the crown, the cool is fucking dead. your chest is full and scared until the air unfurls, then fade to dreams forever before the scheme repeats.

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This entry was posted in between the lines, dreams, exposed, introspective, notebook, poetry, restless, secret, writer and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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