Monday, July 23, 2012

This is no Dress Rehearsal.

Nervous thoughts, nervous fingers
There is caffeine in my mind.
I am weary from self-consolation
Apparently, it's working less
Soon, inadequacies will swallow me whole.
Swallow me hole. Hole. Holed.
Beaten.
Who is hearing this soliloquy
This pantomime of failure is a joke
I wear no make-up while performing,
But clearly the costume is transparent
I am the only theme that moans.
Thematic despondency-disgusting.

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