Sending Icebergs

It’s like a birth but it is in reverse never gets better, always gets worse

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All the things
that are suppose to be killing me
aren’t killing me fast enough

I still wake up
every morning
with a feeling of accomplishment needed
and a par
not met

I still go to bed
every night
with a feeling of unrest
knowing
tomorrow will come

and I’ll be just fine
I’ll be fucking fine.

Filed under Poems poetry prose writing

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