by Jennifer C. Gutierrez

I, together with these viscous words
sit seemingly volatile upon this window

The half moon stares right at me
mocking me for my misfortune

"who does not die alone!?"
i shout

for like if one does not agree with one's self,
it just die, that very moment

in between the consciousness and dreams,
in between the short lifespan of usable thoughts and sporadic things
in between the ties and empty spaces...

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