the grand alarm of dawn
breaking through the cracks of tattered blinds
saying the mornings come
and it's time to face this music.
don't think about the life you found,
and sometimes wish you hadn't,
these are the outstanding bills,
of breathing underground.
so face this music.
your heartbeat and breath out on trial.
breathe deep and believe it.
i've gone this far i'll keeping moving for now.
i hate these mornings that bleed violently into the afternoon.
the night sweeps through the city well,
the street lights called too soon.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
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