it's not merely enough
for me to say I'm afraid
of the sickness inside me
the uphill parade
the doubt, the self loathing
and hoping I can trade
one more day, one more day
so I can buy the dreams I made
so long ago, when they were cheap
and bills were automatically paid
and this sickness that crawls
ties me down to that spot
arms crossed, legs splayed
a puppet to the cinema
projected on my psyche and played
over and over
till I start to fade
old creature, old creature
that lives in my gut
tell me the secret
to escape this rut
"spirit, old spirit"
it answers
with as always
tightining the reigns
"kill me
or kill yourself"
I guess I have a battle on my hands
-o0o-
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