Them shakes them worries

Them shakes they’re bold they’re whole body digressions
yet incorporeal like some bedlam-man’s convincing epilepsy.

Them worries they’re killer they’re always on the way
out when I drowsy me am always on the way in loitering.

Them shakes they’re bullies they’re savvy at avowing my
panoply of doubts the ones that belittle that fatigue me daily.

Them worries they’re hazards they’re firm as a firing-squad
lined up not a leg’s length distant from my taunted teeth rattling.

Them shakes they’re tragic they’re a choir mouthing faintly
my iniquities so-called my replies to many a goaded heartbeat.

Them worries they’re famished they’re drooling all over my sleeping
body they amass in the bedroom gloom my every shuteye paranoid.

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~ by Jeremy on April 26, 2012.

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