The morning after

Beware the morning after
the future before the storm
the overwhelming anthem
marking the past as Heavens door
ceilings faking inward the fire
burns through night
showering eyes with darkness
breaking unburdened sight
drink the moths of poison
bury the bodies beneath
beware the morning after
the warden of defeat.

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Mirror of what came before

It’s the same
and yet
yet so completely
different
not again
but similar
still leaves my mind
searching for words
now
now that everything
is different
but all the same
old wounds
do not forget
the pain all in my skin
memory of flesh
but then
this time
it’s completely different
like night and day
but still we miss
everything
we want to forget
memories
under our skin
finger nails
and on our neck
makes the differences
seem
nonexistent.