fifteen years later, no closer to home
And
if all that keeps you going is the
possibility
of more money, then all
you
are is fucked,
and
i say this without conviction,
and
there’s no one here to
listen
to me anyway.
I
consider how easy it would be to
suffocate
beneath the
weight
of poems about true love
All
of the ways we
could
fail someone else. 
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