Have I died enough, enough times, have I died well enough deep enough hard enough with enough feeling, enough passion, desire, fury, distress, frenzy, With enough storm, wrath, suffering, drama…. intensity What is enough, how many times is enough how long does it take to do a good death and when dead hey what then? Rather disturbing eh? distant, detached, desolate, stiff, rigid and cold with the worlds best bitch face I mean your there rotting on the inside and on the outside everything has stopped, your not exactly communicative are you? Its not like you can talk or move around or anything Its not like you can tell the person beside you what you want, need or how you feel, now can you? You are dead, gone, done, finished You sort of have stopped with everything whether you want things to be this way or not You have frozen mid riff, you have a fractured, tattered, shredded, future You can no longer change things, change yourself or your world fix the hole that’s being dug You are dead, and now what? Have I died enough…..
This poem was published in Golden Hour - Hora Dorada
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