Memento Mori

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Seattle, Washington, United States
Professional Darling

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

In Dreams, Responsibilities




In Dreams, Responsibilities

In searching
I walk through dreams,
scouting locations 
and wander past delicate nightmares
within your foolish occupations.
Broken hearts meet in the middle
and die stuck in the first
morning light.
Whatever is left, when touched, 
surely will turn to dust. 
In death this dream is real
and in dream this death is imaginary when
Broken hearts are trampled
and spoken words grow hard. 
There is nothing to this daydream
as eyes open do not reflect the dawn;
just black pools of emptiness and 
nothing else worth living. 
She moves and whimpers, 
whines for someone to take it away. 
She is being trampled and someone
threw her love away.

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