A whisper where I cannot make out the words.
People growing older where their hearing slowly fades to a murmur.
I strain to hear them but it’s like a fast moving locomotive has come between
Me and them.
Bellowing steam out of the engines, bellowing steam from beneath its cobalt belly.
A train the devil conducts, driving it up a grade no human could walk.
The horn blares the sound of a million unpleasant concerts beginning at once.
All these deadly thoughts bouncing in my head—
Like purposefully overdosing
Or not giving a shit about others.
Not giving a shit about others a far deadlier thought for I fear not death.
Whereas I use drugs to quiet the poetry in my head because the vivid dreams of my poet mind do--
Cause fear.
For those words are the greatest power I have ever come to know
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