At the edges of my visage the flames burn its rims
And in elation or deciet the heat burns from within
So that each dream is set in summer or a heated situation
My head throbs and my mind roars in my past's reparations.
There's friends who have no interest in me
And death from everywhere-
Being left alone and abandoned
And apathy abundant
My god! This is redundant but
This heat I find is new
In a fever dream, the world it seems,
Sears hot with the first truth.
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