Sharp, sharp is what this bitter gulp of retrograde feels like. 

Gushes of dull screams pour from my pores and eyes as my facial expressions disguise all my faults.

I cover my face from the shame that I’ve acquired, for I was not meant to be born to live a life this stiff.

We are stepping to the melodic chant from four 365’s ago and I know how this ball continues.

I will drink away my nickels of distress, for the life that I live is gray.

She has this light in her four decade old eyes and it burdens me to know that what she calls hope, I call denial.

So selfish of me, to see the world from wet, blue, and unpleased eyes.

I wish the weather was kinder, I wish the people were blind, I wish I too had a sparkle, I wish the world was pure.

I know that as the waves get closer, it’ll be my time to accept them.

The waves, life as it comes, the fact that I am who I am living the life that I am living.

If I don’t make it don’t write to me, for I am spilling myself into everything I have ever so desired to be.

The End

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