if you have to ask
By aiwaz
quiet say nothing let yr space be yr breath words tire at the marathon wire and crash in blind despair say nothing, bite yr tongue til it bleeds you weild it like a hammer of lies pound each one as a nail in yr hand and one for each of yr eyes camoflage introspection stuttering yr feeble rejection the neon wild of yellow nausea ego mirrors of opaque poets observation of no reflection. Written February 8th, 2002 © on Feb 08 2002 12:07 PM PST 0 • 10
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"quiet say nothing..."