The things I've known, like a hurt soul. Exodus of a beating heart. Dead inside are these dead men ambulating, amputated, amplified like thee? Like me? Like the things I've known...eating cold rice from a dented can. Dollar store tape on a burning wound. The things I've known, like standing at a muddy shore, washing indelible sins into a turbid stream. Blogging. Crying out sometimes in a dream, sometimes from a hurt soul. These are the things I've known: The joke, the turn of a phrase, the cold rice in a dented can, the dollar store tape binds a muddy shore, the salt to a dying wound. Then a song unknown to a blogger's tale.