April 14th

 

Circles.
They must mean something,
because that’s all you’ve given me.

Circles under my eyes,
as dark as my thoughts.
Circles of words I run around.
Circles of lies to keep me enticed.

Baby, I’m tired.
Of circles.
Of games.
Of indifference.

Baby, I love you.
I’m sorry,
that I have to apologize for it.

Baby, I have to run.
I won’t survive a
cut in my pride.

I can’t let you know,
anything,
about my fear of
bad religion.

Let’s break the circles,
and the cycles,
and the chains.

Let’s stop everything right here.
Bite the bullet,
shoot the priest,
kill the bird.

Baby, you’re dead to me.

 

 

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