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stop saying you're miserable
because you don't know misery
it hasn't landed on your doors
nor has it ever been on your feet.

misery is a concept you're trying so hard to get to
and you destroy people to get to it
you cause misery
you are misery to people
but you will never feel misery
nor will you be able to claim
you're in misery
because misery is only for the good
i sat on the decrepit
chesterfield near the
window with a half-empty
bottle of whiskey
and a pack of cigarettes
pondering about death
pondering about trivialities
because i had nowhere to go
the roads were closed
the churches have been burnt
the bars were filled with ******
i was lost
my soul was empty
i have walked the streets
every hour
every day
wearing threadbare overcoats
and fedoras
from the strangers
i slept with
my feet were trying to find
the right path but
i was so lost
the lights have flickered out
the birds have stopped singing
and the madness have stopped
cauterizing my throat
I become gluttonous
on solitude,

the way a person luxuriates
in furs and silk,

Italian leather,
diamond rings.

The finer things.

What can possibly be finer
than silence?

— The End —