The Malemute and Me

I hide my heart
when it rains
and even when it shines,
for reasons known only
behind my eyes.
ive wasted many years reliving my past,
of what i have no memory,
but the aftermath has
and will last a lifetime.
blanketing my mind
with a grotesque fog
hindered solely by
self-doubt when stepping onto
these city streets.

Hank once said that he
felt alone,
suicidal and near death
but never lonely.
i must agree,
especially when skeletons of debauchery
seep into my skin and
drain out onto my
machine gun,
where doubt dies.

only in silence,
where words arent spoken from
open mouths but broken hearts,
can one raise the most hell.


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