I used to spend time dreaming
I used to feel at home
Now the world is crumbling
and the ceiling tiles groan
The resevoirs break
rushing water from broken bones
beneath the wood begin to shake
along the fissured stone
My breath manifested ghosts
Eyes hinted of broken glass
They longed to be part of the coast
Instead of rusted brass
I don't know why my eyes won't close
or why my mouth won't unlock
They must be angry I suppose
At all the thoughts I've fought
I need the static to rest
the steady rise and fall of the chest
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