beauty becomes a one note joke, the more you see the less you get
am i sure that things are meant to become one way
am i doomed to accept things as the have never been
i deafen myself with inspiration
leaving my own well to run dry
an ink still bleeding through the paper
fibers left untouched now tainted with the smell of failure
stems
fallen, scattered
leaving paths of stripped fragrance
listen
pathetic sad little fuck that you are
listen and believe that there is hope in the swollen desperation
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