11.

 

i think of myself as an object

i try to describe myself in grand words

and eloquent turns of phrases

that mean nothing

but have artificial beauty 

my world is artifice 

hidden in a maze of streets

that aren’t on google maps

 

i use phrases like

i’m made of tangents

and parallel lines that

wind themselves around

each other like dna strands

 

i fashion words into saying things like 

 

i’m made of repeated detours

any direction i move

i’m lost

 

i try to use simple words

one syllable straight on words

but it’s not that simple

the world i see

artifice

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