Rooms as tattered as can withstand, a push cart comes forward. Winding up the arm, casting it into the void stonewall. Old relationships become stale, when you figured they’d never see the end. It felt like a punishment, I wondered about in everlasting chaos and fixtures. Pulsing in and outward, the lifeless hole came with a price you’d never come up to. I didn’t want to fight you anymore than I needed to, but you resisted the treasonish claims even in death. Our time hit its peak, one hundred years of drought came and went without a whim or warning. Those poor drawstrings click into place, they called for your internment one and two vowed for justification. One and two bleeds, one and two fell through the glass wall and were never pressed.
Creator And Contributor- Chris Ballenger
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