Poor poor poor me

All night and day

I thought and felt

And yet the time it comes to write

It’s the middle of the night.

And i get angry because

There’s nothing else accessible

Because I haven’t made the time

I haven’t created the space

I haven’t done it god DAMN it

And so quietly

And with a certain regret

And sure amount of suffering

I swipe it out.

Bad Damon.

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