I pick my hammer up, Hand saw in another Needle-like nails ready to tear the wood away, creating material things to fill a void mostly spectral. Hammering my nails in, despising my impatience of first not letting the fevicol dry. but still, there you sit an obese glob of a rotund man, occupying even the space of the seat nearby, why wont you go away?
I pick up my paint brush, giving my best into some distraction, half-assing my way under the pretense of creating art. red, blue, an orange hue. its always been you, heart one, but brains seared into two. outsiders look at my art to see what I see, but you see my art, and know what I do, but still, there you sit, occupying even the space of the seat of content and happiness, why wont you go away?
I turn on my laptop, mind dialled into making some music today, like a kindergardener fiddling with a calculator, making sense of its use, I click clack my keys away, hoping to create something that sounds well, I look back to see my progress, excited to send my work into the public space, but all I see is you sitting still, there you sit an obese glob of a rotund man, occupying even the space of the seat nearby the seats of content, and happiness Dear loneliness, why wont you go away?
When you meet a swordsman, draw your sword. Do not recite poetry to one who is not a poet. but still, there you sit, a swordsman listening to my poetry.
Do I becon you with open arms, call you in like a friend? Or do I call out my arms to stab them into you, ending our story? an obese glob of a rotund man, occupying even the space of the seat nearby the seats of content, and happiness Dear loneliness, why wont you go away?
How does a man of my stature move an obese glob of a rotund man, an obese glob of a rotund man deciding to take up all of the space on my mind? crestfallen, I chose myself a little bit nicotine today. Dear loneliness, why wont you go away?
Like a loser, crestfallen. not anymore the hyena who gives up when shit hits the fan looking at me with Dead eyes, your body still, there you sit. I pick myself up, fuck the round obese man. imma do what I came to do anyway. this is my poem, and imma write it exactly my way. So Dear loneliness, not anymore will you find me trying to give a shit on why wont you go away.
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