wake up everyone.
i keep trying to get these thoughts out of my fingers each draft worse than the last delete. delete. delete. messages unsent what I want to say plays on repeat except you can’t hear this record scratching on the table is it memory
floating down the street throwing beads for show can’t tell what or who is behind the mask these shape-shifters sifting through the bottom of every bottle
follow the wordsmith, join the party
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