April 3, 2014
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Enslaved
i speak and create a canvas
of what it is i know not
from a prison everything
seems so real and genuine and sincere
i stare at the refrigerator
i see the pictures
my guilt
my feelings of guilt
permeate in the smile
it is fucking bullshit
a prisoner
stockholm syndrome
staring
vacant
mesmerized by fate
its ridiculous absurdity
why not a shotgun
why not anything
why be
why have knowledge
why the confusion
let it go
sleep
slumber somber
clouds
coffee
mimosas
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