Stream of Consciousness

Tonight Feels Like A Dark Siamese Twin

My mouth, a broken cassette tape playing on a table top recorder. My words, songs on the mixed tape that passes through the hands of retro-nineteen-ninety teenagers. The cacophony of the unsung symphony nursing its patrons on sympathy and remorse. Scares me more to wake & find you gone than it fills me with joy to see you there.

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