tim barrus: mixing medias: when you come home

i cannot go back to that evil place you say there is no such thing as evil but what the fuck do you know/ i can’t go back to that evil place because you can’t go back/ you can, however, get all caught up twisted in the remembering/ dwelling on any place or any point in time is not who i am/ it’s not what i am about even if it is, indeed, what many writers spend their lives treading that water over and trying to recreate something that never was/ those people are either dead or they hate my guts or both/ i continue to be amazed anyone still lives in that imprisoned tomb of a town/ behold, the tollbooth of abuse/ the ancient sickness bending would be to return to any part of those crippled skies/ if i can do it, you can do it, too, babycakes/ they don’t deserve you/ they never did/ when you come home, your bed is here/

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