Sugar
I’m passively watching
everything slip from my once ridged death grip.
Maybe I’ll be happier this way.
Maybe my writing will become so much more profound.
Something more than diary entries from a distraught narrator.
I’ll rewrap myself into something much more inviting and thrilling.
Only writing of my hopes and dreams
I’ll sugar coat it all
Like a cup of bitter burnt coffee,
I’ll only be palatable
if I change something major about me.
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