I’m lucky that my mind is barely in tact.
Resistance, persistence, repeat.
My mind has a mind of its own. I’m not sure if I’ll ever breathe easy
again. Call me drama but call me
human. Maybe I’m not the crazy one –
maybe the world has us so numb we wouldn’t know righteousness if it threw
itself at us in an empty bar. Don’t look
at me like you know something I don’t, as though your life experience should be
teaching me something. Appease, release,
repeat. No thanks.
All I want to do is get through the day in tact.
Color me human.
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