fatalist equation

the sound of a clock ticking
on a stereo system.
full blast.
ran into broken glass
blood is fluid
when hardened
the perfect cast.

love is a scab
the remains of the past in the rear view mirror
objects get farther as you grow near.

the inevitability
of a manic act
gains the eyes of passersby
earning a title of maniac.

bitten nails down to bleeding skin
keep looking at pictures of the past
expressionless before
but now they grin.

life is what two makes it
disregard any hints of the past
because one can’t take it.

the reflections in the broken mirror
speak loud and clear
life equals death
it all disappears.


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