Sunday, June 10, 2012

Execution

I wore the time like a milliner's hat
Filled with hollowed dreams and a road less traveled
Remembering how you stomped upon my heart like a dirty bath mat
Left the fibers' of my being on the naked floor unraveled

And as the months turned to cold
My heart chills in this sterile institution
Watch my soul collapse like an accordion as it folds
Reaching the pinnacle of retreat as a way of execution

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