Skimming BBC

I am always alone
Under the covers of my mind
No thought slips in but what I put in

Fast broaches the dawn of discontent
Hours with swelling need and vacant desire
No energy just a sucking
A sucking of all that is
To the place of hurt that I hope will
Die by
The side of my gathered calamities
The moments of being that aren’t mine but should keep
Deep in the well of an educated soul
Fresh places of pain for all hours of the day

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