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Vices

Self-Built Prison

By Jade MorrisPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Oh serrated edges,

Of the words that seep

Into my ears from filthy lips

Releasing them like poison

Floating freely through the hazy air.

They slash and bruise my beating heart

With their flipantly broken edges,

They dig out painful memories

From far beneath the scar tissue

That once hid them from thought.

Oh darting eyes,

Search through the mysteries

To maybe discover a hidden escape,

A passage back to pleasant dreams,

Far away from evil thoughts

And vainly spoken words.

Oh idle minds,

That weave loosely tattered garments

Thrown together with no second glance at detail.

They let the garbage mix unevenly

With the good

And ignorant minds don't seem to see

The error of their ways.

Oh bubbling brew,

Toxic tonic burning as I gulp it down,

Swirling thoughts more evil than before

Lost within my own intoxication

Bleeding though I feel numb to the pain.

Oh prison walls,

Built by hands commanded by a wicked broken heart

And steely bars rust with age,

And lock me deep within

My heartache.

heartbreak
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About the Creator

Jade Morris

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