poetry

untitled… 

​killing an imaginary time, that’s killing me. six different ways to sunday. praising that sky, while this ground curses me. wandering within this maze, losing my days. no direction, and no reactions… got me spinning around. wearing half circles beneath my eyes. and i’m not too proud to say. perhaps, i’ve been wandering aimlessly the same way… figuring out. that’s no place for me. 

-joshua ryan stewart

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