There was a battle here

Anchored in the seabed
A boat swinging in the storm, creating wakes like white flowers
Brief blooms obliterated by black water

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1991

I did it to myself
Buried evidence in my flesh
Sang no more, denying music
At least a decade of numb decay
Spent dying of security

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Quietly Wild

Behind me wreckage lies
Before me cinders fly

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The Light Is On

I have ticked forward. One eternal second on the clock. The small thing that feels like forever.

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Prelude

Am I already singing? Is that my voice or hers? My image in the mirror looks the same, pleasantly unglamorous, growing slowly older. Except that now there is gold dust on my lips. I smile. I can’t help it.

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