In My Dreams, In My Nightmares
Molasses wallpaper dripping
dripping down the sides of
my face. Time moves slower
here. It's close; it's near.
Smoke rising up, the color
of burgundy and Edgar
Allen Poe, ravenously slipping
its cruel grasp around
my throat. Do not disturb,
do not enter, do not pass
go, do not collect 200
dollars, do not
love. Do not say
goodbye unless it's
necessary. We're forced
to say plenty of goodbyes
Talk to me.
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