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cosmo naught
Poems
Aug 23
chrysaline
My brain won’t let me think a thought.
It’s a weeks-long descent to where I am,
I’m paralyzing myself.
Sleep and substances.
I am not eating, I am singing to myself.
Barely moving, constant motion.
Nothing else.
Not the chores, no exploration, no self-help.
Why do I refuse the math?
I’m hurting myself.
Written by
cosmo naught
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Emirhan Nakaş
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