i almost died
a few different times
if not for a series
of odd coincidences
and faulty valves
the world could have
been a much more
beautiful place
proving fate has a taste
for ugliness to
blot away the hope
in universal disbelief

everything is in
warbling state of
shuddering ruination
yet still
i grasp at smoke
hoping to snag a
handful of light
in the swirling malaise
of hollow words
each nerve bared to
the salinated truth
a myriad of spectral
catastrophes singing
into the silence

a line of crows
contemplating murder
in covid curiosity
glare at me beneath
a yellowed haze of
gray nothingness
seeing the glimmer of
unshed tears in
kaleidoscopic delusion
as the poetry pools
in purple ecchymosis
ink stains just under
parchment skin
tattooed in hideous
parodies of elegance

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