A collection of poems of one to twenty lines, quilted together using sequential excerpts of past work.
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where does that leave me
in middle class silence
he reigns king
she watches
my own rejected
the constant refrain
examples of lack overriding
rugs pulled from beneath
piece together a lie
removing myself at long last
the light at the end of the tunnel
ignite
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vicious cycle
the same problem
I’m never the same
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unstable
at least a few occasions
I was repeatedly myself
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they were in the dark
1.
had a problem with my problem
so I took a gamble
and lost my dignity
2.
a period of time impulsive
I’d leave home at night
started small
had sex
I wish I’d had more
a job
the dishes
myself
3.
another problem
I changed in the morning
and then dropped and stripped in the afternoon
4.
I waited six months
gave up with some guy
it was confusing if I payed attention
I matched my behaviour with my company
and impersonated me
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the unmentionable
I was
the way they thought I was
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the right and wrong I like
I’ve struggled to accept my reality
ashamed of a preference
hard because I sound casual
I’ve been all I feel like
just like you decided
I think I’ll have the side order
I regret that reason
sick of hearing the right
paint the wrong like that
blue corner
I should go back
screw the old one in new ways
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therapy hangover
I leave her office
exhausted grumpy and queasy
it would be a good idea
to have alcohol at our sessions
if I’m going to have a hangover
I may as well have a good time
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the psychologist
someone you pay to care
I could do that
with own my reflection
instead I see her
seems wrong to see someone
and never feel the need to ask
it’s acceptable
any attempt she makes
I’m not well
had that dream again
I think it has something
to do with my sister
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the machine operator
you are armed if you know her
work the machine
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the love trap
crazy when you’re together
crazy when you’re apart
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the inner critic
reviewing the useless
is useless
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the inner world of self
the vehicle and the outlet
scratched
an accident caused
I’m glad to have the occasional twinge
talk about whatever comes up
as though subconsciously myself
against all changes
I predict where this is going
feels good to lose myself
I use myself
to manifest others
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the future
I won’t miss this
short-term reality
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the chair
I get nervous before the appointments
I see her once a week
I see her for an hour
my heart beats faster as I walk down the hall
I never know what we’ll discuss
I always know I’ll be exhausted
I never like to let her down
I haven’t been doing well
I spend most of my time being numb
the idea of opening up scares me
I’m afraid of what may come to the surface
I’m afraid she’ll pick up on something
I always want to be in control
but in that chair I am vulnerable
raw and naked
I worry about going hours before
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