I fear that this epoch of my life is wasted

an age of remorse and desires unsated

I’ve painted a picture and balled up the canvas

I’ve torn down these walls just to leave myself stranded

and every life matters but I’m starting to regret that I’ve lasted

without making passage

so keep on reading and I’ll keep on sucking

taking time from my schedule comprised of fuck all and nothing

this taste in my mouth is the leavings of my crooked spine

and it doesn’t have my best interest in mind

so build me a treehouse of entrances

with a million good options and no good defenses

and I’ll take the time to exposes all my senses to

beating my brow on the post of that fence

that I stood at in infancy and wrote about in redundancy till death

tears my shit in half



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