So tired in the intestines of the city
Melted fat falls from my forehead and
seeps into the cracks in the cement
Someday my entire body will rip these
streets apart
But for now I look at the metal sky and
see the sirens reflect
I know they're coming for me
They always have been
A sword materializes in my hand
All pixellated and disjointed
I debate on cutting my scalp open
Giving my brain a massage
But then I think better of it
I light up a cigarette and sit on the
pavement
Sword in one hand, smoke in the other
And I wait....
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