Untitled 9
Mental deterioration
deviates my plain frustration
without so little as explanations
to set some expectations
I tighten my boots
I fasten my vest
I flick on my light
I turn to the rest and say,
"I'm alright!" :D
my words without meaning
demeaning my feelings
my desaturated shallow eyes
bleed from sundown to sunrise
my handyman mask,
always attached
I can't tell if it's me holding on
or a big elastic band
of if I drilled in on
with my own betraying hand
Phillips head screws shine through
surface imperfections
stress cracks form from
brute force connections
organic creature hidden from instinctual
thought ejections
I use my brain as fatal weapons
to fight myself and learn my lessons
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