H.T.W. (edited and stripped down to self conscious ripples)

Coffee for breakfast
Beer for lunch

I hear
a girl assume
a bunch
Of shit
I have to consume
and it
makes me thinner
It takes all of the room
I have left for dinner

That disjointed point
you coined
you self anointed as important
Wasn’t joined
With reality
or gravity
It gradually floated away
off the earthen
sandy surf
I stay
Immersed in—
Thats what’s worth an
Entire worlds salary to me—
the conscience within
Not the flesh on the shin bone
Or conquests to win contests with skin shown

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