I am not the opiate
of myself
I need to be.
I am not an extract
from the rainforest
of my origin.
I am not enough
just to know this.
I do not want
a prescription,
a patch,
or a syringe for it.
Where is
the electrical switchbox
of it within me?
Autopilot seems
to intervene.
Nostalgia is
only a haunting.
No,
I can only repeat my lines.
I am not the opiate
of myself . . .
I need to be . . .
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