no surprise, really

i am sorry for all that i’ve been

and now my business

is promoting my original thought

for someone else’s sales

my words are owned by a person

i’ve never met

much like everyone else

i am 23 with

 

it all begins from within

and here i am

too obsessed with what i’m living without

the external is made by me, not makes me

how do i access that bit?

i wanted to do, so i did,

then i stopped

too aware of the glass

i was crushing in my unsigned checks

i was comfortably shape shifting

within

but it stops

and forward procession must be marked

by an intentional call toward detachment

but that’s not to say

i can’t love you

 

just that the only one

with the power to drive me crazy

should be whatever storm

is already inside of me

everything else are inventions

and i create, with you, a reality

a shared reality

that i’ve been mistaking for my own

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