it’s the

a chill,

chill crawls over me.

all over

my back,

my neck,

my face.

I’d seen,

seen the look

of innocence,

of lie,

of cheat

and steal.

a big dose

of real,

realization

it’s not for me.

It’s not about you.

It’s not what

you up to?

It’s the not,

not knowing

that hurts.

a cold

cut slap

of meat,

meets meat

across

a foolish face.

 

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About thegraffitihunter

lover of art, photography & of course, graffiti... View all posts by thegraffitihunter

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