Monday, August 3, 2015

Strange old aching comforting wishing a burden a compulsion for running fits with no shame. I've never had it in me to find a door. Medication by the shameful. I'm drinking myself into someone else. Hour can't alter misperceptions, my humbling shaking fits. Just to get out of this frame and shape some words. I wrap a knife in my glass and swallow like a friend.

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