Down to my last
lyric
(We're not supposed to
lyric
(We're not supposed to
anymore)
Whisper the word pilling –
a piling-on of fabrications
You wear it well or
wore it
Free range derangement commences
as denizens make strange with tenses and moods
I saw an old cancerous friend and he said,
“I remember when I used to be creative.
They cut it out of me
all interstitial-like.”
The lies and years are
pilling.
I will miss you when you shun me. I write these
things for nothing
You remain
the best nothing I know
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