Autonecropolis

Far from the warm holes
a mess of doors and
wings, wrecks of dents

and the broken lights of
lost souls,
the shitten hope

of a young man`s last skid
that led to flowers
cold on a country roadside

and the whisper
between the aluminium
begging till the battery leaks;

I did not want
To lose my body
But I was no good at life.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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