Life is beautiful but also ugly, unfair,
and some horrible shit to deal with when desire
to fight off the lizards and cyborgs isn’t there.
Finding myself wearing Goodwill shineface attire,
each button a land mine maiming my wildbird dreams,
thoughts paralyzed by responsible ropes tying
down nomadic nature; coming apart at seams
of I guess “soul” but feels like soulless, like dying
without orgasmic release of actual death -
a picture of healthy frustration, stuck chasing
nothing, wasting away each anxious stifled breath.
FOCUS ON YOUR GOALS! FOCUS ON YOUR GOALS! (Facing
the reality nobody gives half a shit,
including you, passing through existential pit.)
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