what of it, pages and pages
no one sees.
so many words lose meaning.
how to say: this is still me. that is,
too many words mean onething.
they mean i am
stopping at nothing expressing;
my will is change;
every feeling into an idea.
stopped at nothingness.
so that it may be controlled, of course,
if one who stops at nothing
means anything it is: ‘i anticipate my destruction,
mind body and hole.’
when i achieve my idea
feelings won’t be felt,
peace is destruction
of the freedom that demands expression.
it is not as impossible as it sounds.
i place burnt evidence on a shelf already cluttering.
in the sense i am doomed
i must first convince others.

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