Apathy
Confusion and calamity
Drive me into the dirt
Take me and bury me
and in a hundred years
pray for me and my creativity
I've lost something
plot points and a narrative outline
tacked onto the wall with spit
hollow point bullets
and an iron will made of wine and sugar cane
Drinking it in
Swallow fistfuls of frustration
and a cripling sense of definition
the buzzing grows into something
similar to music
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