Sorrow for Sadness

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Sheets of turmoil

from the vocal strains

of Cobain cross the divide

into my headphones. I listen

to the disarray as symbolic

avenues converge. Born into

premonitions, this isn't burrowing

deep enough. What love brings,

love takes away. Sage advice

that must be heeded. I see

midnight burn green. Two

guitar strings lay in the

velvet lined case. Snapping

a pragmatic vein for show.

I walk out the back screen door

to darkness, and embrace the

loud silence I hear.

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