Honest

i’m struggling for air and breathing out of rhythm

where once i was a dancer now i’m lost

caught in urban degradation

trying to find reason

the semantics of philosophy have caught

me

i am

floating like i have no wings

running like i have no legs, falling with

no unforeseen landing

this is perfect

it’s a perfect time for raining

with three loads of laundry

and no soap powder for the mind

my head is a regular cycle on agitate

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