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Prozac
January 21, 2010
It’s a lonely morning.
Waking up happy
with noone to smile at.
Vibrating viscera
delightful spasms rupturing through
squeezing all sanctity shut.
Hearing people awake
surrender to the routine.
Wanting to become a part
of a useful community.
Let’s admit it while we can:
Love is a useless thing.
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