feel

this constant confusion is a nasty contusion growing from my brain and making it lame it’s a duck but don’t quack it swims but it lacks the ability to eat anything but meat ouch i got cavities don’t give me no sweets from candy or sandy or my second husband randy the one I don’t mention cause i don’t want your attention to go there cause that story brings much apprehension and the dissension present and already here will metastasize and kill me….shit! my end is here…I always wonder when I’m gonna die and then I think about that and then I wonder why and look around and i observe the time fly and I ain’t gonna cry so I allow a big sigh when thinking back on all of my life and the stories it holds I know some of those stories really are made of gold but they’re locked in a vault made of a pillar of salt and yet it is soft, it is harder than steel yet so many I know eat it just like meal and that may be why I refuse so to feel

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