Sunday, May 14, 2017

John Sweet writes

fifteen years later, no closer to home

And if all that keeps you going is the 
possibility of more money, then all
you are is fucked,

and i say this without conviction, 
and there’s no one here to
listen to me anyway.

I consider how easy it would be to 
suffocate beneath the
weight of poems about true love

All of the ways we 
could fail someone else. Image result for buried under paper paintings

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