sometimes, these days —

 

— can feel my heart beating really slowly;
following the thump, thumpity thump
of a casual heartbreak — yes, the fairystory could not be there.
The so called friends don’t always be there within the afforded sets
made imaginary enemies of my soul and declared war

where hast thou gone?
are you lost?
in some impious grave woodland
tethered to the moss — to the rocks —
do you hear me bellow and moan ~
a ravaged body by the elements
wood and artificial metal; plastic poisoning :://\//
how can someone tell you leave?
when your heart’s been staying  ????++??
if some malignant cell had burst
could I not cry,  ?
while you vigorously fuck me with a virus
and stay fucked by a disease
am I too low to be here
too high to be angry at
there was no violence
but the decay was unnatural
but it was not preternatural in the traditional sense
yet preternature tended to it with a caustic blow
and I have been hit so soon; breaking apart
but I don’t always cure my fate
somethings’ learning here

maybe, this is a viral shot to incubate an antibody
from people who think sorrows are only their own
and pushing aside others as doors
only lead to “happiness” to them
to say I am not withered would be lie blatant
to say I am not strong to endure and empath enough to care
would be truth simplified. _▬

 

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