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words flicker in and out of my consciousness,
buzzing like tiny hummingbirds
singing static songs in staccato time,
pecking at my synapses
and performing scientific experiments
with my neurons
attempting to find the cure for
all of this rampant self-loathing, but losing contact
before i can document them to the world.
or at least my world, which orbits around my head,
mocking me at every rotation, crippling me with its gravity
leaving me a husk of rotting flesh
picked apart by vultures and maggots and conservatives
and all of the childhood fears
i refused to believe would follow me out of the dark
and into my adult life.

words crawl across my eyes like a marquee
and the headlines read like a playbook of
bastards greatest hits,
volume three
the one that has that story about the time
i threw away my short term goals
for some even shorter term fixes that left me
dried up and exhausted the next morning
and fifty dollars poorer.

and sometimes, women read these words
and laugh at how pathetic they seem
and then cry when they realize its about them
and sometimes men read these words
but i don’t show these to them,
they find me,
they always find me. we visit the same places, you see.

– r.f.g


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