Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Existential error

There’s a thief in my closet and a murderer out my window.
Every night, the thief creeps out of the closet and steals my thoughts.
Every night, the murderer sneaks into my room and kills my feelings.

Every night I wait there patiently, waiting for them to finish their jobs.
Watching them as they tear apart every inch of my mental world.
Every night I line up the pieces of what’s left behind.

And every night they come back.

And every night I pay them to do it.

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