pyar

It was something I carried everywhere

It is something I carry everywhere

A kind of displacement from the world

A manufactured loneliness despite of you

A flick of anger would precipitate it

A manicured sense of injustice

Like a golf course blown by a storm

I don’t know what to do with it

Or what good can come out of it

I want to go to her house

And drink her cunt dry

 

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