Bleh with Barry

Random with a cynical twist of lime.

Twisted Everyway

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The corner of my afghan

Frays a little more every

Time I curl underneath it which

Seems to be more often in

Recent months with the

Division of my memory into the

Black hole that exists in my

Mind. Some say that losing

Oneself is a golden moment, but the

Fading of my fleshly thoughts,

Emotions, connections becomes

Grim in the cold light of morning

Where my screaming insecurities are

Presented in magna-vision in the big

Screen of someone else’s theater.

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Written by barryr22

November 1, 2011 at 9:34 pm

Posted in Poetry

Tagged with , , ,

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