Open Window

Here, open-windowed,
There’s a mist on the town
Of absent name
Just like my,
Absent mind.

We walked today
Through moody dregs
Left behind by
Directional disagreements
And negative spreads.

The world is dead
The world is dead
The world at fault
For all you dread.

Heavy-headed, this yoke
Broke me, so these
Streets I walked:
Waiting for rescue,
Waiting for air.

My mistake still heavy
My mistake still proud
Words dispel toxic
Fumes, flood fills
Toxic you.

All forgiven, I sit
By the open-windowed
Mist.
I hear him breathe;
Reducing chances for sleep.

The world is dead
The world is dead
You at fault
For all you dread.

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