our bodies should have
self-destruction buttons
for all those neatly crafted daydreams
that leave behind their
comet-like tails
merely despair
and coffee-blue tongues
misery is honey when served alongside
universes left unborn
and unfit
to conquer the reality of dirty hair
and tainted teeth
and ages never to be reversed
or revived
but how I ache for this poison,
this delusional syndrome
of a life well spent!
in my imagination,I am the queen
and my king
is never the same
not once have I wanted to be
somebody
more than today
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