scattered mind seemed so seamless, once upon a time
they said i broke it so i bought it
fractures turned glassware
it felt alright that night
was grist for the mill
it kept me from hunger, it kept me from cold
daylight and detritus stymied my flow
so i sold my soul to god or good or some kind of thing
sometimes i want it back, that collection
of nothing but molten sand, beta-decay
and moments that never needed arithmetic
casino delirium, soft pumpkin slave to the cyborg imperium
just like a million junkies before me
lukewarm puddle from a snowflake personality
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