Pathetic.
A constant tug
between the war
on terror, or
peace of mind.
Without a general
sense of
direction
I stand
motionless in
the wavelengths
between cerebral ticks.
Anonymously,
subconsciously,
impersonally is the
despair...
we have succumb to,
this.
This tangram
with mismatched
puzzle pieces that
almost
fit together.
This celestial
ribbon portrayed by
connect-the-dots
without
numbers.
This... mess.
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