Free Ballard

I look out the window and i see ghosts
that plunge with ferocious anger
upon these tilted buildings–
fluttering like fat birds
ready to pounce on beautiful flowers.

Sadness blurs lines made by rain drops
in silence that almost has a scent.
I am lost in a vacuum,
feeling as though I am swallowed up
by my very own throat.
Watching the open air of thought
lose its mind underneath this sunless sky.
The ground has begun to crumble
below my feet.
I am now ready to leave.


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