Frayed around the edges

Almost the last one that I have passed on and then when it’s gone? Everything looks metallic men made of tin, robotic Doc’ said, I could be neurotic prescribed me an antibiotic. nothing cures a touch of fantasy better than a dose of reality I take two spoonsful a day, it doesn’t do anything for…

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Bloodworks

rows upon rows that stretch down the street they butter shop windows with cold shuttered steel, ever feel that you’re not wanted? and what’s inside? is it so valuable? The sign says welcome but It’s so impersonal. It cuts both ways we close ourselves off from others and move through the days like the living…

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