Throw it amongst the others.
I've thrown away things that you'd lose limbs for
Probably pined for shit that you'd throw away too.
I don't want to write this.
Hurling these goddamn words about
on this petri dish
so by the time I'm done I've said something.
When does pity turn from a rapidly decreasing desire to be here with me
to seeing something at its end?
I roll a cigarette, I'd rather be fighting.
I fight, I'd rather be fucking.
I fuck, I'd rather be laughing.
An ongoing series of replacements
until you get right back to the beginning
where it all started.
You're alone, kid.