readings:
day three
Each crayon in my personal coloring box
is a silo filled
with compressed tension
and colorful stress downwardly expressing me.
Existential depression is only the front grill
on this lament, as I
(introspective eye)
drive really fast, far and delightfully often.
I see myself as in a cast. I (Introspective eye),
claim to others that I start things as an initiator,
and am a champion of causes,
but actually they sneak out of me
and I (introspective eye),
chase covetously after them.
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