Circulation

Circulation

A Poem by Wraith.

Trepidation, disposition
Below the surface it's esoteric
a skin of grief 
self medication 
Ambivalent ritual
My brain is in seizures 
Somehow still human 
I stash my unknowns below my ribs 
Pain that could draw in most dire of dependencies
and become so aware of fragility 
weak in my nature

© 2016 Wraith.


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Added on January 14, 2016
Last Updated on January 14, 2016

Author

Wraith.
Wraith.

warwickshire, United Kingdom



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