The air gorges on my heart

Another beautiful girl,

Sigh…ah well.

A carefree feeling and a smell…

The air gorges on my heart…

To stare

   Softly

        Into myself

            Is the only defense

                  You can get close to.

Something takes

     Me too quickly

           Too fast

               And it all blurs

                   Into a hateful mess.           

It’s always something else

I’m not allowed to say to anyone.

God wags his finger at me when the words leave me and he soaks their implications

In sourness

At least for me…

And everyone who reads this and thinks it’s pretentious…

That’s how karma works.

But I’m talking to myself.

An army of ideas grows old and tired, they whisper

“Hey!  At least we’re here for you…”

And that’s true…

That’s true…

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