Distrust has penetrated their path, no chance to cross
in my predatory mind. Murder smelled of
sweetness and dust. A
terrible mistake they made, always on the road, never hiding.
Rumbling across the room like invisible thunderbolts until they’re caught by an
ambulance made of a vacuum cleaner.
CPR could never save their lives, though
they always fought to the last blood
in the presence of a wall made of artificial stones.
One in a million, the distraction slowly frayed my
nebulous nerves .
---
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About the Creator
Mescaline Brisset
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
so you want to be a writer? – Charles Bukowski
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