Saw the trucks roll out this morning, not sure when they’re coming back again.
Feel the prickings of my conscience in my chest every now and then.
Sometimes a great wave of forgetfulness rises up and blesses me
and other times the sickness howls, and I despair of any remedy.


And I feel guilty,
but I cant feel ashamed.
Prowl through empty fields great Cain.

— “Prowl Great Cain” by The Mountain Goats (via heronqueenblues)
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