Pending title
Craving is not a
Word I invite to stay
Once it’s late
this very action whining traction slouched
Slurring self esteem
Made enough
Boiled fluid of my spine
Resiliency strengthening
Battle with myself knowing what I must do
Should be enough battle fields overgrown
With a rare rose bush guarded by tones
Of vibrating repellent, shifting sacrifice of
An emotional congruency
Still don’t know why-everything, after
Sores are sore more, after cream
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