[I could have thought about]

In my misplaced entitlement
my miry, inane infliction

and in quiet moody moments
regret would come wash over me

like a heavy wave

i only massaged my temples
and bustled down the corridors

on the edge of my plastic chair
yes of course, those playful punches

all in abundance

and i

could have focused on the future
or ran my fingers through my hair

shouted curses and let out cries
waited for a burnished bullet

but i just sat there

and i thought of nothing at all
i let hunger claim possession

there, puffing on my cigarette
watching silver smoke curl and dance

i thought of nothing



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