[Issue 13 / 1 May 15]

 

Perhaps it has always been the same.
These swollen red eyes
a tasteless dizziness.
Nurturing cavities with every cigarette-
like nausea,
tasted in morning toothpaste
or in visions of alcoholic mornings.

No bridges to burn
No white wooden gates to walk through
No idea to hold on to for too long.

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