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Jul 7
Stringing out what consciousness remains
Straining eyes as they ruminate their imagined future
Never coming to any real fruition
All the while life passes by
Opportunity slips through my peripheral
Friends laugh above my frozen figure
Some stranger flirts with the shallow flesh that hovers above my rotting corpse
And I giggle a little
Because I’ve played this game before
And like a fool think I can win
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