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Half-Moon Watching

A tree falls in the forest.

It doesn’t make a sound.

I lie awake in suffocating silence

Festering in my filthy bedroom.

The half-moon watches from the window.

Witness to reflections of doom.

It doesn’t see me, nobody does.

I’m not in my bed, I’m not in my body.

I’m a silent scream in the empty air.

I’m a choking sob in pajamas.

I’m a puddle of pointless tears.

I’m a question nobody hears.

I’m the powerless passing of years.

I belong on the scarred surface

Of the dead and dusty moon

Watching the shadows creep

Over everything, everything, soon.

The Walk

Remaining Dead

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