my tummy hurts.
heart burns as well.
pockets cannot feel,
and yet a soft sting exists there still.
all this suffering seeks to bind.
"look onward, move upward"
how outdated, how disingenuous.
as a formidable substitute, my liver suggests:
"uproot inward, expel outward"
conjuration has admittedly never been my strong-suit.
best not to dawdle i suppose, for nothing good
ever comes from a fear left nourished,
justified, held tight, coddled,
within the complacent womb of the mind.
0x4...98F
