upright.
Charlatans
dream of high times
fair games.
Sun has set
Song turns in a verse
Plot is lost
One is left
alone in the square
Now you're a
high class
sideshow
freak.
And it's that sensation,
the one you can't
put your finger on,
or even wish to consider
contemplating.
Tightness,
heavy and weary.
Your heart feels more like
a clenched fist
that wishes
it did not
exist.
From between your teeth,
tongue
picks out
the remains of what
you held back
and will be forced to swallow,
again
and
again
and
again until nothing of that life
remains.
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