The Undead Lives

Abi Lofthouse
Abi Lofthouse

Pick yourself up.

You are a cup to be filled,

not distilled; erupt.

Flow pyroclastic,

that’s the way you have to go:

adapting and free.

See how easy ’tis?

This regression is a key

For thee, to elise.

Damn segregation,

To hell inspiration with.

Write of elation.

Our words are borrowed.

Burrowed meanings breaking free

And not just for you.

Through I comes the hue,

And you understand me now,

How tell me, don’t you?

Your emotions colour:

Fill in the blanks that aren’t there.

In amazement, stare.

Because “I”‘m not here,

It’s your insides in the air:

Ringing in your ear.

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