12.01.03 - 4:41
the imitation picks you up like a habit writing in the glow of the tv static taking out the trash to the man give the people something they understand
mistake a nervous flash for a fine-line smile junk bond trader trying to sell a sucker a style rich man in a poor man's clothes the permanent installment of the daily dose
and you tell me, "fool, you tell it like it is" your wall's gone wider than your head trip is checking into a small reality void as a drug you take too regularly
the athlete's laugh; the broken crutch the first true love folded at the slightest touch brought down like an old hotel people digging through the rubble for things they can resell
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