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Heckles & Seafood.

You’re in the ring
ready to go
but I’m just sitting, thinking,
tossing notes.

You’re armed to the teeth,
executing play after play.
I just want to chew,
put this seafood on display
because I feel alone
and cannot seem to connect
any other way.

So fucking kill me.

Walk up to my soap box,
just another ape
chucking shit.

Do you have a purpose here?
Are you just heckling me
for the hell of it?

You feel like the cancer
infecting everything.
You are a roaming
storm cloud determined
to rain on every parade.

What an honorable role to play.

Just turn around.
Just walk away.
I’m too sensitive
and you always seem so
bitter, cold.

What do you really want?
What are you trying to prove?
Does it even matter
what I say?

Or would you seek
to tear me down
no matter what I offer,
paint me
as a fool
and faker anyway?


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