i've been stationary
blank except for the expected
and that i do not have dirt on on my feet
or that i'm not nursing a calloused hangover
in a different city
is strange and sad.
like stationary i've built up too much in my head
and its swimming around
sucking up all the oxygen before i can write it down.
a dead zone in the ocean
that had so much potential
i look for needles like an addict
except they're for sewing
or lifting imperfections
out of my shedding skin.
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