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Apr 2014
Tonight, I poured my
emotional mess on the sidewalks.
I watched it splatter onto the brick
walls next to me and into the cool
cement below my feet.

I let the anxiety take control, again.
I let it feast on my sadness and spew
out manifestations of angst and pain that only a mind such as mine could. But I suppose that's not the worst thing.

I feel like I'm failing again. I feel like I'm losing a piece of myself. I'm losing grip with what I need to be doing.

But who the **** even knows what that is anyway?
**** ******* poem for a **** ******* night.
k
Written by
k  USA
(USA)   
324
 
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