April 7

I do not know what anything is anymore
Water
Food
Sleep
Love

It seems melodramatic
But it is a cheap penny dreadful
With too much unneeded drama
Arguing over who should wash what
Who said what
Who thought what
With sad violas floating over the mess that it is
Everyone traumatized like it was in the Middle AgeS
Before tv

By a cold shore
With blue eyes
Is now the time to give up?
It circles around in every space available
Doubt is the packing peanut

One must be cagey and merciless
To bring the king out of his castle and cut off his ears

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