Money drained away so we can find new ways to kill us all, This world of crying souls, animal energies ground up into fancy sushi rolls, You can’t fit in, into a world that was never meant for you I burned through them trying out the robes of different ways to goĪbout my business, but you can’t shove a misshapen piece into any type of puzzle The cost…is just another one of your nine lives, how many do you have left These swollen hands, I thought I had ripped from the web of dreams,Īs a perfectionist every step you make, is just closer to a mistake To remind myself that I’m ‘nothing’ but a pawn in society’s capitalistic definitions I keep it as a memento, like Dexter’s blood tray, I’ve killed my own, “self-confidence” in so many different “timeframes” and ways, I’m a serial killer, not of people but of my own dignity So many fragments of different people’s lives I’ve stole, stolen to make their histories my own… Of the big city life, that masks my true identity The last time – I took a breathe from the hectic “rushing” rudeness I trace the palm lines of my past, they’ve dug in. Over the next few weeks, I will be sharing some of these on my blog. I started writing creatively with poetry.
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