An escape artist to the moments that get to me.
Sometimes I flee and return to the mind scene.
Though for the time being, no being still, suffering the ill- will from the venoms, vampiric essence; the type that inhibits your steady state.
Tipping away while dripping, leaving a stain in the process of the sipping.
Life’s demeaning, in the private, suffering the bloodshed,
the type that only one can imagine.
Murdock
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