The Falls

Sitting at the new course

writing with a swollen hand

running with the recourse

down a river never damned

some rocks are sharp, they split the skin

when they hit amid the trees 

lining up the bankside

with a stark, cold autumn breeze

bloods' flooded in the river   

and one can't see the red

numbing from the shiver

is the shadow in my head

forgotten is the waterfall

that lays not far ahead

want to go down with me?

said the shadow in my head

the falls that flood

in my bed like blood

like the tears

dried and sunken

back into my head

like the falls of ethanol

may leave me

good and dead.

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