Squelched out.

Last night I grew tired

No longer inspired by the spiraling concert of conversation,

facing confrontations when (parlaying) saying

Anything more for the table?

I’m full on the reissued excuses

perfumed by choices and resolutions.

Just wanting to love,

finding a vessel that’s dark and bringing a light bulb

But maybe I needed you, to stand there and be need, to frantically want me

Only to leave me instead.

Sometimes the heart breaks before the bloody end

But there’s still blood

And pain

And nothing to gain

But freedom


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