heaving high his fistfuls
the things he needs to be
the quashed assimilation
of beauty
of the queen
will i be forgotten?
and will words drain the day
were you all so knotted
you took that hope away?
keeping his mouth shut
turning the words off
breaking the contracts
still somewhat intact
on the outside it looks that
he might almost make it
(but the insides feel empty)
(the ears ring without)
(wholly unwilling)
(to live through the drought)
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