Return the thought of a shallow water tongue.
Rejoice it walks these roads no more.
Your horse can take it easy now.

Rest easy.

Violet turns to blur
remaining still or shot
teeth ache heart hurts.

The light through the cracks let out just enough
to pierce the pale and capture the calm.
Overturn the weight.

Odds are he'll fall asleep
and cut to spill his chest
breathing to carry them.

The bedside pacifists latch to the bed ridden activist.
They'll ask each other:
'Do you think he can hear us?'
He'll ask himself:
'Do they really think that I'm listening?'

Either way the poster child for sympathy just flat lined.

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