glue-gunning the fragments that used to be my mind.
my words used to be like knives...
they've become recycled plastic spoons;
HARMLESS and oft ignored.
Solitude is relative
when you find that you're lonesome among thousands
passing hours or even days
starving for a single complete thought.
Good thing I never settle for broken pieces of what once was,
but fight for what is meant to be.
Cloudy w a chance of meatballs was awesome.
just thought you'd like to know :-)
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