if you see me again, i'm a --
could there ever be a perfect goodbye? it seems not -
nobody truly hopes to leave their burdens behind
funnel clouds at harbor threatening a turbulent ride
farewell, my friend. my serpent, my swine. blurring the lines
between purpose and sign. epiphany and trick of the mind
that momentary nicotine high, it calls me softly
oil-black and costly. wheeze whistling notes
piercing chalk-washed arteries addicted to smoke
let the symptoms diagnose themselves. all doctor approved
coughing up mucus. cold-turkey pack of Marlboro blues.
dead man
__________________
Zack Wicks for president
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