What Sticks?

Every day I’m a new person with the same desires – sleep is transitory yet life is constant – I can’t step into one from out of the other – chased by energy nothing remains – that’s the problem – escape from a prison that doesn’t exist – hopeful salesman in abandoned neighborhood knocking on moss covered doors – wasting words on an empty room – no matter how much I talk it won’t fill up – a leak somewhere probably in the ceiling cause on the ground it’s crowded – verbal molasses and clogged synapses – fozzilation through tar – something to remember just not what it was.

From Idedik

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