Death of the Next High
Alley cat scrawn
Bending leg pencils
Hair just too long
with no comprehension
Lost with no conscience
A haze at sixteen
Breaking out lines
gone to sleep with cocaine
I knew your smile
Eyelashes to here
No chance of managing
this lack of fear
Slept through your life
'xcept visions gone high
Lashes touch lashes
to breathing expired.
Copyright © Tatyana Carney | Year Posted 2006
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