Death By Desire
by
Rosalind Christine Lloyd
(its okay....its just a damn moment in time)
Incantations of “this ain’t no funeral,”
Whispering
Over and over again
As the slippery knot of
That disease called
Procrastination
Lodges itself
Inside a barren and wasted mind
Blocking any possibilities of release
The rumbling of repressed opportunities
Crowded by the weight of doubt
Swallowed by the heaviness of regret
Overwhelmed and burdened by aimless, shapeless, insatiable, haunting reminisce
Scratching, clawing out from beneath a reality one convinced is not their own
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