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my dear friend
i miss you
like a crack addict misses crack
i am in AA
on the emergency table i lay, frail
i feel my internal workings coming undone
i am locked out of the fun
i am tempted by my insatiable lust to run
run and run from myself
perceptions of moi
that i have conjured and cooked
laced extras with the crack, microwave
the crack, a transplant for my identity
expand myself for the many
so i could sell more
more of me in exchange
for love, the eternal currency
the currency i seek
on some level the extras i laundered
became me
identification with the mask
i have trapped myself between the future
and the past.
how long can this last?