I don’t expect directions
they’re useless anyway
as my reference
I’ll have to depend upon
my own voice
tending to my own discrete guilt
swearing back as I hope
nobody’s notice in the clouds
nobody’s thoughts in the darkness
to make it seem better
I’ll imagine a Hero
just so not to remember how much
measured haunts my own stairs
listening too long
becoming so too commonplace
dying while my own shadow is so sucked in
moaning a web of a useful-less view
pigeonholes
to cover my own liars
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