Incredulous and tied up in knots,
my heart strings pulled taunt
as piano wire would,
if it should be out of tune.
I croon at the prospect
of a better tomorrow.
Follow my compass
towards a saccharine hollow.
Bitter is the medicine
that I’m made to swallow,
shake it up, in its bottle.
Throttle my sorrow.
Callow are the reasons I
can’t stand the season.
Treason stands still
freezing for thrills
and the night passes slow
when I’m stuck here alone.
Full blown undertones
of incredible edible bones.
Baroque and broke
empty wallet craves trinkets.
So I sell my soul
for a new way to seek it.
Speak it unspoken,
reek if un-showered
soured devoured
and cowering from the cowards.

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