tequila week

someday I will be around
a circle of life within
without, ttil then
I have a candle for the past
emitting weepy wobbly flowers
poison to dull my present
peering over the edge
its arm around my shoulder
holding up a rag doll
without a spine
where used to be me
don’t tell me, I’ll guesss
where my future lies
right there, on that shelf
just beyond my reach
just outside my own forgiveness
and if my present legs
would just work
I may reach it
if I could just get out
of my own way
excuse me pardon me sorry oops
ouch damn oh yikes oh no
and the cycle of life continues


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