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Nov 2012
outside of myself
currently.
smoking a whole
cigarette in the icy night
pretending to Be.
The shell of
a woman wearing a grown up
coat doing the rules-
paying the dues of
a liar with a book,
a quill and a crown.
the liquor holds my lips
open and-
I feel hollow and full
in my head...
and I wonder where I'm
supposed to be.
and am hoping that maybe in this state
I will be able to tell
myself the answer-
since I'm telling
all,
Anyway.
My hair smells like
ash,  my fingers cold on
the filter.
The stars are too clear.
I should probably...

reality snaking in
to remind-

I'm
getting too
old for this.
copyright fhw, 2012.
F White
Written by
F White
459
 
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