(false)quicksand / nothing is solid, or is it?


whatever can be
will be
like I’ve said every day
and like no other today; twenty-five but
still the same, feeling just the same
as eighteen, eight, one
and all the foggy useless days in between;
cutting through the hours
indestructibly, sleek

until I hit the wall and it all becomes
everything I thought it wasn’t

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