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From the Inside Out

January 24, 2012

Ripples stop at nothing

Pockets of pessimism

Encourage them

Beckon them

Plead with them

To grow

To knock me off my perch.

Growing into waves

Subtle to the unaware

Waves of spit and phlegm

Seize images stuck on glass

No release without distortion

No free ride today.

Forget your surfboard

Forget your wet suit

These waves are out for blood.

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