I may have
been mistaken.
I may be
emotional – I may be down.
Doesn’t
really matter, does it?
One life.
One little Human being.
Waiting.
Struggling.
Realizing
what’s going to happen.
It’s funny,
isn’t it.
No. No, not
really.
No existential
swim for me.
I find it
hard to keep focus.
Isolation.
I can feel
my hearth beating.
Hard.
Don’t
worry, I’m not going to do anything stupid.
Talks. Some
good. Others not.
And I can’t
pick up the phone.
Don’t talk
of bombs, cars or murder.
Don’t think
about killing, death and partners.
Can’t sing.
Not that it
would matter.
Can’t make
the call.
Should.
But can’t.
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