silver clouds of sorrowful recompense

the sky
is neon gray
the sun
infusing the clouds
with that
radioactive glow
that promises
just less than you
want need or deserve
the love of a mother
filtered through
stinging rebukes
or material possessions
that leave
the scars aching
in the early
morning chill

these days
sitting at the edge
of a full breakdown
as lars sings about
yugoslavia being
blown to bits
as i try to
fall into the bassline
that makes love
to the front
of my sorrow laden brain
the loneliness wells up
as i drown in fire
suffused in
silver radiation
as it burns me
to a crisp in a sea
of evaporated tears

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