processing

leave me the f%$* alone
leave me to my thoughts
leave me to solitude
leave me to self-loathing

what, you say you won’t?

fine, just sit in the corner
I need to process and just
get to me when my thoughts
get rational–is that possible?

head boppin’ to headphones
heart sinking due to doldrum
this fleshy shell ain’t hard
this thought-train ain’t safe

at some point i expect splatter, though
the question is, what of clean up?
that deadly climax; imminent return
do I want to know the truth?

the specter of uncertainty looms
and my inner strength, presumed
fear of my internal light
correlates with my plight

dealing in the morning. goodnight.

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