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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