Build a Dream

Posted: March 3, 2012 in My Poetry

I am back.

In the belly
of the beast,
hanging hate
like dirty paper.

Sick with the kill
of day upon day,
tearing ragged strips
to make paper mache –

Build more nothing
on nothing
until it feels like
something.

It’s the same nothing
that it’s always been,
wishing’s not a spell.

I go on feeling
nothing
and the news?
It piles up.

Unread & waiting
for the shallow code
of feeling.

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