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3d
you awake, and your blood
it’s changed, wrong color,

which color matters not, just,
it isn’t what’s supposed to be,

the wound that wasn’t there yesterday,
won’t/isn't being healed, somethings wrong

you don’t need to admit the admission,
no supposition, the truth, it will out you

wearing the weariness in/on your eyes,
your forehead and anywhere it matters

even strangers double take, cross over the
street to avoid visiting your visage

sometimes it can’t be helped, enormity
seems insufficient to redress overwhelming

gonna give up this wretched writing gig,
recording date & time futile & unimportant

the everything everywhere every day is
well past  the Nevery, but specificity is not

yeah gonna take a breather, a whole season,
put aside the reasons, no more deep cuts

when the portico spaces shout, sorry ,closed,
in spades, but you don’t feel it or care

go off and cater to yourself, knowing in
advance, that work won’t advance you past

the point of return, who, you’re too wounded,
no forward, the past is clout clouded, rough

the word some is a totality, what you got,
is something else, & need another something

taking a break from fools and friends, at now,
ain't any difference, gonna lie down, yeah,

lie down or lie up
because


sometimes it helps
Nat Lipstadt
Written by
Nat Lipstadt  120/M/nyc
(120/M/nyc)   
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