Saturday, April 9, 2011

death city, death country

I can die,
and no one will notice.

You can cut me,
hit me,
and no one will notice.

I scream and no one notices.

Loneliness is invisible.

Loneliness is inescapable.

I am loneliest when they speak to me,
these others.

I am dead.

No one knows.

They are dead too.

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