So accustomed to sleeping with a shotgun
Alarms and tripwires set to wake me to anyone
Daring to enter this bastion of my isolation,
Prepared to gun down any without hesitation
Intention discretion irrelevant to my reaction,
Blind defense to guard this place,
Concealing sins in the closets, not brave enough to face
Their poisons, aging scars my sleeping fingers trace,
From battles won and lost and memories erased...
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
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