all the friends past & done
loved yourself
all past & gone
what's left
an unrecognizable form
of never will be & never would've done
how you miss the lights
the lines
and the light rail cars
madly writing this all down
to pour your heart out through the controlled ink flow
of a ball point pen
to act as your own medicine.
not the pink pills today,
substitute the orange scratch
and sticky black.
Could you forget?
the pain
(of missing)
what you were
& had
& been
saturated in the intelligence of another
makes it feel worth & bother
digitize to make it
all feel & appear real
just hold on to that smile a little while more
so they won't suspect
you're a phony & a bore.
written sometime late summer. august maybe. was watching the dvd of Matt good's best of album: "in a coma" as this entered my head. I often get good "rushes" while listening or viewing his work.
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