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Solace Via Recurrence.

Sip my poison,
see my own truth.
Strive to convey
it, find solace

in the fact
that there’s no use.

It’s like watching
a house of cards collapse in slow
motion, its foundation
of lies having finally suffered
collision with actuality.

Nothing left
now but to document
the downfall,
smooth the transition
through open
ear and subtle mouth.

Could have sworn
I’d heard this story.

Understand:
I may be mad,
given my vision
of how all this ends.

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