hoof it

the words escape me trapped in a whirlwind of my own butter discontented sighs to traipse across the room a will o’wisp of bad intentions irresponsible irreprehensible irreparable an abomination an abdominal snow man a flaky crust of subservitude to a cause and affectionately spooked recurring theme

i don’t know what’s happening but i don’t like any of it

the world feels like ants nibbling the bare nerve endings of spinal collapse

stop the bus i think i will hoof it from here

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