Sunday, April 19, 2015

NaPoWriMo, Day Nineteen, Poem Thirteen


Blunt

I am my own worst enemy
I am winning.

Self-surgical scaple
replaced with bats.

Interrogation over
what I already know.

Where is your sense
what is the sense

carry on
carrying on.

run on sentences
run on, sentient.

Only one of us will walk away happy.
I would like to meet that person.




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