I wonder if its an illness to want to live to see regret, Egg on fate hoping it would respond, Looking for trouble for its attention, hoping when it makes impact that might just be enough to reanimate what you've buried. "Uh oh, you've given me thoughts."
Picking up validation
Grains of it, Like rice you spilled, All over my kitchen floor. Reaching under the fridge, Separating the dust from the kernel, Fistfuls of dust, For the one.
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