Some posts are meant to be buried

Because I was superficial
and refused to take the time
to show you
like a missle
all I had was a line
an arc that caught me unserving
undeserving of your time
and now like a missle I’ve run back into mine

Was it that soft
that cloud on the loft
dug up from the crypt
the air turned it to dust

Overhear myself saying the worst of things
The truth about flying abondoned wings

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