Poetry · Writing

den of 2013

the scoreboard is still up

broken down over the years

it has been awhile

you’ve been hiding

i know you’re still kicking

i can see the fog like breath from your den

i can smell it;

old stained blood eyes

you must be waiting for my back to turn

but i am done with you

i know you will stay

but that was our last bout

this won’t be about

you anymore

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