It starts with a cough. Shivering, dragging knifes behind us, to remind us where we’ve been
Who’s the leader In the dual digest? You seem to do it best
My ideas have been embalmed like a Red dead leader.
I’m stale again in the public square.
And who’s the first to claim that they’ve maintained their mouth, with corners turning terrible?
Aw, that wide-framed wood and teeth. A clenched jaw judging where reality peaks. Embracing embers and licking lips The quiet comes off when the bandage splits