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14h
Summer slips away
while I hide in my room
wasting time falling down
wondering if I’ll ever share
this wealth of love
I hoard on my mound
with someone besides myself:
a tragedy, curled up on the rug,
jaded by the compassion
that has been given up
and I can't get enough

I pinch in further to zoom
on the microcosm of my life
and see that it’s cropped into a frame
without resolve or anyone to blame
alone with the blinds drawn
frozen in a still shot
where I'm hiding from the moon
and it has me believing that
I might die alone
from lack of sleep
as I howl and brood

Morning breaks through
requesting me with warmth
and calling out to
wake me before noon.
I hear but don't listen,
instead I'll bask in this gloom,
listless

That surely must produce
some worthwhile art in the end
even if something will always
feel like it's missing
09/22
Written by
J Bjork  33/M/Washington
(33/M/Washington)   
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