Or numbs it.
Destroyed instantly, after taking up such arms.
Flattened, with a word.
A simple word, a meaningful expression
It doesn't take much.
A stiff winter breeze with the ocean hot on its heels
takes me away with her.
Take me away, out from here from my clamoring thoughts
From my laboured breathing and dripping sweat.
Give me something sweet, something tender
To tender tomorrow's coming defeat?
I build it up, stack it high, just to see all the cards fall
Over and over again.
A slight touch of comfort
Heady rush of thick bitter oak
I'll take what I can get.
Anything but this.
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