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haze poem

1
2
371
400 problems
in a three hour average
(and that’s just an estimate).

and soon, it catches up to me
and soon, it all disappears
and as soon as the lights vanish
within the haze
the smog fills my lungs,
fogs my mind
and my past is blurred:
a smudge of condensation on the morning mirror
breaking my concentration
(and my reflection).

(I’m) choking,
suffocating.
it wrings the words out of me,
it escapes through my fingertips
it streams out the ears
and it pours itself as ink
and pixels on a screen.

cover yourself.
stay indoors.
keep the tele on, monitor the situation.
the weather could be bad for health.

hold your breath
(until your death).

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