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Stagnation.

Maybe I deserve
to be on the streets,
covered in filth, eating
leftovers and castaways
out of dumpsters,
sleeping in the woods,
waiting to die,
but my luck, their love
keeps my head above water,
let’s me survive.

“Fucking
grow up, grow up,
fend for yourself.
Do what you must,
find another place, another
daily grind to grind
you away.”

Guilty and no stranger
to self-loathing. Hesitation
keeping me from evolving.
Between fear of failure
and fear of success I ride
out the tension, run in place,
just a hamster
on his wheel, mind reeling.

Why don’t I
just do
something?

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