Imagine that

I lied to you, yes

But by that point I was already dead

Scolding hot drenched syrup

Dropped

Top to toe

Chewy edges

Find my edges

Stick to hairs

And pull

Make me marble

By that point

I was already dead

Didn’t need to lie

To make my heart less humble

When it didn’t even beat

How do I make myself love

Something already dead

Withered and frayed

Taking too long to write

And too slow to come to terms

With its own insignificance

You’d think

Being dead

I’d know my worth by now

But still I wait for the day

My brain catches up

With my bold and arrogant

Imagination

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