The blunt side edge.

So much to say for a single thing.
Pride is a brick inside throats.
Strangely I hear their voices more,
yet you’re the voice I speak to.
For every half minute of thought,
five minutes of redundant banter.
Screaming at the sky.
Atrophy of the heart.
Points hammer home so hard
they wreck the foundation.
All so they may breathe.


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