ye olde man

so quickly, as the phone line goes dead
does euphoria dissolve in angry tears over something totally unrelated
of a bubble being popped, of the outside world opening their fucking mouths
and saying things, that by now shouldnt hurt, but do.

what do you know?

snort.

there are little ones, sitting at the window
each one screams pick me, pick me!
but he turns his face

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c

my world, out of your reach

3 thoughts on “ye olde man”

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