That mindstem
Ripped off and broken in the midst of some
Disappearing line
Falling all the way down into the repetition of fake bliss
Figuring it out
Over and over and over
Again
IT'S PERFECT!!!
Then gone,
As the illusions wear off and the little addictions start poking us again
Offering their small giddy smiles
While the asphalt carves holes in our souls and rips us sideways
Throwing us back on the train
Going round and round in circles
As it makes its rounds
Hugging the edges
At the base of the great mountain.
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