Words of bitter yesterdays
by Bobo
Posted: 01 August 2004 Word Count: 47 Summary: For Andy... |
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The words that coursed the air
weren't mine -
rancid markers of paranoia
from the oasthouses
of betrayal.
I am not my fears,
yet they sculpt
my hated existence.
Attacking you
with the putrid
lies of others
becomes the pastime
of my insecurity.
I am so sorry.
weren't mine -
rancid markers of paranoia
from the oasthouses
of betrayal.
I am not my fears,
yet they sculpt
my hated existence.
Attacking you
with the putrid
lies of others
becomes the pastime
of my insecurity.
I am so sorry.
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