I choose this belief
I just want to touch
This feeling where I’m worthwhile
It feels like my words are so juvenile
This rhyme scheme is boring
Im noticing it has no value
What it was or what it could be is distorted by what it should be
Not so deep and not so terrible
This writing began to become bearable
But now while the quiet hum from this fridge accompanies me and creates a sense of security
Its electric thrum…
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