I am not who I think you want me to be and thus I battle this battle.

Me. My. I.

Why must I dwell in my fears and my sweat and such a threat feasting upon this crippled body so unbroken and so hated when we met?

Why must you lay your heaviness resting on my debris-shoulders why wonders pass me by and I, with half an eye, desperately searching for poise in your bag of bones, dance wildy with the devil while he moans?

Why must I climb your mountains and sail your seas and for what should I enjoy the breeze of fleeting times and fleeting flesh that will forever rotten while we forever thresh…?

I gulp and let it pass like the millionth, uneventful panic attack. I’ll try and live for “right nows”.

But a tad later.

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