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We take some words
(the ones we're looking at)
isolate them into fact
it's easier to interact
(keep looking the same way)

Words become worlds
(or they were already)
only seen in conflict
but prefer to walk away
(tomorrow can dismiss today)

Then I find my self
(or them, can I tell?)
in the clash between our worlds
still, before the end they quit
(pick up what I can of it)

Build it back up into me
(what else is night for?)
So desperate for a map,
some kind of line to follow
(I can finally be something again)

So I become what I consider myself to be
(or it becomes through me)
a function between worlds of words
an ill defined equality
(it makes whatever sense now means to me)


An ever more abstract version
(of an abstracted version)
of someone,
trying their best to be me
A worthless instrument filled with sentiment
That is what I want to take
   from when I thoroughly become benevolent.

I yearn a reminder of a version
Of myself where I don't have piercing eyes
Or a cold body
Or a stifling loathe of beings similar to myself
Or a need to curl up to a ball when pens *****

Ah fornicate this I can't write anymore

There's a hope buried in me
It multiplies like bamboo shoots entangling
It says grow thorns, be turgid
It says pop horns, stay frigid

I walk down the corridor constantly defying myself
I'm one character I think
Am I
If you want to be a poet,
just pretend to be depressed.

Drink alcohol, cut yourself, &
pop pills.

Listen to angry music &
wear black every day.

If you dare to smile we will
cut you from the canon!

To be a poet is to be a disciple,
a saddened & sickened disciple.

If you aren't angsty & angry
you cannot be a poet.

Poetry is about sadness
& hate & anger.

Poetry is a way for teenagers
to hate their parents
& get away with it.

Alas, I cannot be a poet;
I believe in Heaven, you see,
or something like it
& enjoy life
immensely.
Yes, this is completely scathing
So i became an addict
Drug addict
You were my drug
And you were my end.
Everytime my lips touched yours
I was a step closer to the death
Everytime i breathed near you
I was left without a breath.
I still feel your lips on mine
I still feel your smell on my neck
I still feel your hands on my head.
And i still feel the loneliness
That i am feeling from the night you went away.
I just miss something i never had.
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