out of fear that

i can’t tell you

how many times a day

i say, “let’s hang this up.”

there is no use in it.

i’ve got no heart left.

only empty applause

from the echo chamber

of stolen thoughts.

why do i bother any more?

there used to be a soul in here

somewhere

before i wrung her out

dry.

sanctuary can only be found

in sinking further out to sea,

down deep beyond the horizon

of what i don’t want to

admit that i know

about you.

you know, too.

but let’s pretend for another

24

hours

beers

years

out of fear

that being alone

could be infinitely better

than this.

On Tradition

Aus Gott wird man gebor'n, in Christo stirbet man. //////////////// Und in dem heil'gen Geist fängt man zu leben an.

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