my fated regress
- Bethany Stimac
- Sep 26, 2022
- 1 min read
again i get to sit, unkept
again i’m frittered, frayed
i would leave the floor,
quit being a rug,
and simply stride away
but i’m weaved of wires,
flayed in flesh,
unable to unearth this
heart i suppress–
and don’t have time
for my fated regress,
always running late anyways
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