Untitled
Truly believing that I've reached it.
I'm still lying on the floor.
I can never reach the core or pit.
All of my pleasure adds up to nothing.
Believing for no reason that you'd still be there.
I find you where I left you, pouting.
Your memory and soul disentegrate into thin air.
Nothing we are, and forever we live.
Abiding by what the bad kids say.
Dead or alive we dance in our grave.
I sit in my chair and wonder what to do for the day.
Tara Rogers
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