Just Scrape it Off
Just scrape it off.
Like spicy, volcano crust.
It’s not anxiety.
It’s just the grumble of people.
The misty trembling.
Then the bridge of my nose comes into sight.
Just scrape off the old clinging stuff.
Grave voices.
I’m not anxious or nothing.
I’m just a crisp hundred dollar bill for no reason.
Smiling.
Just scrape it off.
Which one?
Whatever makes me mad.
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