Every Day

Dad Thighs

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    (I want to feel nothing)

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    I can’t say that I’ve never fantasized about my own funeral and who would be there
    I’ve dug my own grave with notebooks filled with nothing
    While the crash and slow recoil of a lake front
    Quietly defines nature without the use of words
    Frayed edges prevent paper cuts
    So I ripped every page
    Justifying through aesthetic
    Romanticizing distractions
    The summer sun hurt my eyes

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