Formic Acid
In the spring I was wise:
I was lazy to the point of certain madness,
My will atrophied
and i locked all progress under my jaw.
I grew a row of fear
with only my eyes.
I slept on my bad side.
Everything passed before me
like I was facing a white wall.
I said grace over slow fires
and then turned my back on my hands,
folding myself in and out to the pointless stars.
I did everything I couldn't think of,
and now today is the first day of fall.
It's not cold yet - not in the day anyway
I feel it's time to go in again
and call for help...
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