In the dark

I relax.

Unlike in the light. .

When my soul reacts

And all my miniscule

And lofty flaws

Cast shadows on the wall

Over ten feet tall.

This is my space

And with my disgrace

I sleep, I live,

With nothing but the me,

The useless me

To give.

A broken thing.

A compressed scream.

There is no one roundabout 

Or here,

To make my downfall

Any more clear.

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Filed under poem, poetry

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