Poetry (words)

Scribblings 

Resigned to this, how words are just words and how easily they are replaced. Like the script just a repetition of lives and loves already played out. It’s how some people are, actors hopping from scenes as the story grows old.  Always seeking and always missing the fucking point. We are all as good as our word? Promises made to crumble under the weight of a statement that was just another line. 
Keep ticking those boxes, checklists of perfection. 

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