Sweaty Text

Write a fablecross out all the lines

give to things ordered

break commitments

bullshit owned by me

written down & watch words

shake hands with your eyes

 

waking moments,

what should’ve been—

I wouldn’t know—I’m

beyond reasoning with

 

I subtract and divide,

so suddenly, it’s a blur;

I’m fractions of

what I was before

 

So sexy w/ residue—last night’s sick game

1,000 pages of sweat

& torn text & under

spotlight, keyed

for new mistakes

so eyes can lift

 

just following

lines I crossed out—

a sketch of walls

inside of me—

you outside, looking in,

you wonder why I

went & died for you, so.

I guess it’s a lot, huh?

 

A lot to ask.

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