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Their Eyes Are Only Empty Places

the ghosts of so many futures lie in the wake of time's passage,
each one broken off from this reality, crushed by the brutal weight of our decisions,
and as they bleed our broken promises and lost virginities,
our eyes are trained behind us, captivated by every corpse of every possibility we've ever left behind us
while they burn images of clasped hands and angel eyelashes into our retinas with rusted brands.
they twist in knots around our minds,
forming tumors that push in all the wrong places,
and skeletal hands reach out to suffocate each new ambition, screaming out the names of every what-if
knowing that we will eventually succumb and embrace them as some revenant lover,
even though we've learned that only poison lies in the veins
of the ignorant ecstasy we will find there.
in this way, they surpass the nothingness that they are by inhabiting our minds as part of us,
wrapping us in our own weakness and lulling us to sleep with it,
leaving no room for anything but the slow death of our hearts.

25 Dec 11

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