used and reused

i’m running out of words to recycle
with a mind for an offline audience
this lack of experience has robbed me

i need an excuse to get up in the morning
i need a reason to sit down and type
lies, admissions, and complete fantasies

the urge to mate and kill is
always strongest then
the death of boredom
and machinations of
middle aged men made to measure

click, click, boom
the sounds of keys
depressed
is welcoming till
silence comes
washed out and wheezing

it doesn’t have to be long
though I feel safer when it is
measured
it shouldn’t be forced
expelled
though it often is and almost works

get me outta here
it’s too quiet
no more whores, heroes, or villains today
symbols are medication
drowning me in ignorance
with expectations unlike coal
under pressure forming diamonds

 

 

 

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