Ryan Fitch Poems

When the only comfort is the thought of the past.
When the night is the disguise, and days begin to blend
The knowledge of the future is within reach, but you fall,
You know the reasons, but fail to draw them to end.
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Paired together,
Each nameless to the other.
Taken and free,
Connected were we,
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I’m looking for a body to infect,
It might be yours that I select.
Getting in, well a problem it isn’t,
Did you just eat something off the floor- oh no you didn’t!
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