It’s days like these where I feel non– existent.
Days like these... I need to repent
for lost time that I have spent.
Im not adequate, for the heaven sent,
and I can’t reinvent the things I’ve sent.
What’s done is done, and gone is the sun,
away like the breeze– my lost words– “a mystery.”
 
I play around with punctuation,
like I’ve never been to graduation.
I apply to jobs like it’s time for elimination.
Like I cant be involved in participation,
when I’m unemployed– and self enjoyed.
 
Toxic streams of consciousness flood my mind,
a mix tape in rewind – to find – unfinished sentences
under false pretences. Here I am in by absences,
present but absent in the mind.
 
sMOke some herb to rewind,
what has been intertwined in the mind.
I’m not easy to get along with, cuz’ I’m hard to find,
like where’s Waldo on a decline.
A children’s book with no morals,
a couple just here for the open quarrels
& a life filled with unanswered horrors
 
for the borrowers  -
who never repay what they once stole.
I remember there is only one soul
for sale, and I sit here watching the single whale
jump for its life and a chance of air.
 
Things just ain’t fair. That’s why we belong here.

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