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Bomb
Static
finds me everywhere
like the bombs that go off in the night,
for eight months straight.
I can't save you.
The clouds are coming,
out west,
covering the meadow lands with rain and
twisters and crisp deaths
My love is nothing comparable.
yet it is yours
and for the last time you have lost it
It will not spit out again
I can't.
the static
gets so loud
the radio stops playing
and the feeling leaves me
ugly
You have to end this madness.
