The Cause

Feeling blunt and razored thin think to burn what all has been a tornado of notebooks a forest of thoughts what is the purpose except tie yourself in nots
Not good enough not hot enough once I walked a steel blue edge of melancholy and it fed my pages now flat mesas no bumps no ditches to find the song in

Lost is it

Isn’t it lost output shaving the clouds for some dream that will taste like soap
Then why

Because I must

Then why not see

Because I must improve

Popular is fourteen year old girl territory I’m talking soul touch
To do that to feel that to read that
That is what drives me
And almost almost
So close to something like Christmas
To something holy

No I’m just ranting
Good night

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