Nonplus

The transition of my dawn to dawn

happens so quick –

I make chirps with these words.

I deny soreness to alter this transition.

 

This smile once with rabbit like reflexes

has left to slowdown to a plastic output.

I could choose to miss what I was,

like truly I could.

Or I could cheer for the fight I’ve

put in with all the squares flipped

tangentially to my liking.

 

What more could this lead to?

Now I am shell of who?

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