hits and bruises

I am not

weary

though I appear

a broken record

an album only played

for the hits, the bruises

the songs that make them laugh

written, left me in tears

nevermind that, why are these pencil shavings

piling up in the corner, my vacuum won’t collect

no matter how many times I turn it on

they always stay in the same place

similar to the amount of hands

doctors tried to heal me

but no matter how many times they cleared

I just never came back to life

always staying in the same place

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