Maybe I should write a poem
Maybe I should write two
But no matter how many I write
Still can't get through
Like a morsel stuck in the throat
Of a girl in a fancy restaurant
Just as she starts to choke
Her words slur like drunken rants
Maybe I'm blubbering mind vomit here
Maybe poetry is a byproduct of fear
Maybe Tuesday won't be this bad
But Monday makes me so fuckin sad
Now the tv is always on
I drown my thoughts in a steady drone
Of people that only cook or eat
While my life runs on repeat
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