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The Next Level

February 22, 2017

I promised myself that I wouldn’t turn around.

The world used to make sense, well up until now.

My legs and my arms are looking thinner than ever.

Foot-steps step away from the scene.

My potential cannot be caught up in this inevitable bullshit.

My life can’t get caught up in this…

I don’t belong with these people, and I will drag them down.

Down to my level where I find comfort.

I don’t cascade along a track level home like a housewife.

I’m a being, tired as fuck and retired as of now.

Happiness never found me, and I might as well burn my house down.

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From → Poems

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