“Time” by Neil Marsden

Close to death, my breath it stinks. Skin does not exist. Now time has stoppped

i linger and crawl. Pain is my food, hurt is my love.

Pushing on for the sake of sanity, only judging progress with vanity,

i wander aimlessly.

Soaked in chaos the mind makes it own choices, who am i to resist?

One take, no rewind, no re-record, no regrets?

Neil Marsden

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