This just is not happening, all over again and I am barely able
Piddled away my whole life’s earnings, squirmed it all on something of a haphazard half-shell – can you not so much as smell the God awful fear swimming on up inside of me, so you do know these tears are incredibly real
All’s fair in love and war, but this is an entirely different kind of fret
Petrified and terrifically breaking me apart right at the fickle surface where each and every crack may just have started itself off
Threatened both inside and out
Sun in the morning where have you gone, I’ve been waiting, dreading anything else but
It appears to me that I will only ever get to strut my fair stuff soon as you join the moon half-way in parading the whole damn pretty and constant twenty-four hour thing
Be it in the am. or p.m. I’m wholly prepared to savour the crazy flavour either way
And just so you do realise, a constellation or two might turn out quite nice

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