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Dec 8, 2010

0 Fray Souls poem

souls are like fraying jeans

When I say, I love you
are the words dead, hallow and filled with nothing instead

In a world where the tears have all leaked away
drifted and dropped in the translucency of day

And no one even knew or what to say

Where has my mind run off to
down the dark alleys of night

Into the rented bedrooms filled with dark desires
where all my fantasies has taken flight

disguised in the shape and form of my eyes

Deep inside my patched heart
cracked and tainted and pieced apart

resides, a packed up box of chocolate and lullaby
like a music box that finally cranked away

And these are the moments, enslaved and fray