In hope to relate

Complacent the landscape
to a stretch of earthbound sun.
The substance in shadows
dissipate, drowning out beauty
in nasally whispers.

 
I wonder the worst things
I can possibly do,
and desire how it feels
to view the affected.
I can’t bring myself to do it.

 
Succumbing to pleasures,
numbed to growth.
Temptations of fake sweet
force my aloofness.
My vise to invoke.
My demons are real.


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