stuff that happens when one thinks one is strong

Almost got it down to an art, barely floating

Hanging on to straws, the little things

Then a little something comes and

Breaks me down

So tiresome, being a second-rate phoenix

No triumph

Just getting by

Eyes on my feet, the present


Not crazy about them anymore

Hard enough the battering waves

False lighthouses

Don’t want to provide the water

As well



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