A Random Felo De Se
I'm in a relationship with myself
Walking alone on a ticking clock
Improvising only to disappoint
Existing to be invisible.
People who came and left
Took a piece of me
I am now a matrix of crumbs
Bet I'm about to constellate
I self quarrel on a gloomy day
Still battling an overdose
Of between depression and Mirtazapines
Both kills me anyway
I will be in a relationship with myself
Not because there is no one left to
But because I am jaded with the inevitable
Death now is but a random blur
Will this solitude give me the cure?
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