Poem By Joey Brohawn

I am ridging in your undertow
to the light cant seem to float
tell tale people meet at foggy place, feeling less sick now that poison is controlled. It dosent matter, its always worth the ride. Rubber bullets in the glove comparment, hide them there and if you find them i will hit you first. just like before you dont need to open your eyes. Ill do the work the schools arent open. Feeling lighter now that i feel the sun. A lava lamp that has no where to go. i hide you inside and let you glow.

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You feel it coming
towing black bags across the yard
smell isnt there, only the complex
nothing of space and time compressed into vortexs and void for you to lose yourself