and could highlight the shit that made sense of
the drinking/sinking/blank-stared blinking
but i bet it'd explain in articulate terms
why im constantly grasping at ghosts
chasing after breezes
created by ambiguous figments of an imagination
still too starry eyed for cityscapes
too hopeful for ironic disillusions
too connected to dissconnect
two wheels cant replace two arms
the warmth of kinetic motion will lose its glow
when all thats there after is an empty bed
and cold sheets.
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