poetry

Imajaen poste-dia

Is it so simple we are just functional beast.Are we so enamored in our love of good objects in the corner of our own iris.I soon forget I am in my own hubris and my inevitable fallacy of my malady.So please care to judge me when,”I can’t even breathe”.Under my lock and downed arms that is stillquarantined under what shelter a person thinks of a condition I do have.Yet what I can bring to a nearby ATM and one’s purse or wallet.

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