Thursday, April 23, 2015

map of false desire

said the man is dead

says the river is frozen

all of us nothing more than
pointless stories w/
sad, obvious endings

a certain moment
and then the next

name the silence of
clean white hallways

find shadows in
abandoned parking lots

this is time measured by
decay, by isolation
and loss

sorrow is not despair,
but give it time

the future is a liar, just
like any good soldier

the past gets muddied w/
broken bones and

these small towns are
the opposite of
everything we should
ever believe in

these cities are worse

keep driving north to
the house of this woman
i’m not supposed to love

stay home and
pull all the shades

no one ever promised you
a war you could win

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