Moving On by Brenton Booth

sometimes the seconds
play out for hours
with a perfect soundtrack
of pain
& gods & angels
seem the farthest thing
away
& there is no option
but to let yourself  bleed
dry
then walk away to a
completely new &
unknown place
for the unfamiliar streets
though uncaring don’t
always kill
& our blood only comes
in limited amounts
we can only bleed so much
before any further pain is
a choice:
or nothing more than a
lodging we refuse to leave.

Brenton Booth lives in Sydney, Australia. Poetry and fiction of his has appeared in many small press publications. To read more of his work visit brentonbooth.weebly.com

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