Sicken

Where were you when I needed
have a little faith in me

you when everything was
brittleblack and horrorfaces

when everything was
bloodthick echofist
and screamdrips

when wordswordswords
were all I had because I
can’t hear my own self think
didn’t have you
because you got all up in the
high in the

don’t talk back now
had no interest
you never had any,
interest or not.

We rot here in this
trashcan place,

listening to
the gulp gulp sounds of poverty
swallowing all our chances whole

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About Catastrophe Jones

Wretched word-goblin with enough interests that they're not particularly awesome at any of them. Terrible self-esteem and yet prone to hilarious bouts of hubris. Full of the worst flavors of self-awareness. Owns far too many craft supplies. Will sing to you at the slightest provocation.
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