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Blue

  • Poet
  • Jan 20
  • 1 min read

Sometimes I wake up so blue I can’t breathe

Stress hives up my neck

Don’t pick them or they won’t love me anymore

So debilitated by my mind I don’t get up sometimes

Not when I’m playing whack a mole with the miscreants of my past

I’m a psychological threesomed torture with the two of you

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