Waiting for the punch line,
on a joke that has no structure.
No catchy hook, no build up.
Just a stomach that’s been punctured.
By a coward, chasing a coward,
over a cowards fucking profit.
Not a moment’s more of warning,
or preparation could have stopped it.
So now I sit here, breathing,
though I’m fractured, and alone.
And even now, i can still feel,
the burning ache within my bones.
So I try to find the punch line.
Find a lesson in the end.
And the only thing I’ve seen?
Be very careful when you choose your friends.


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