and lost blankets
pine away
and I am not
sure where I fit
not happy
not warm
not cold
a lost
of its own
different
than knowing
you'd out to be
doing a thing one way
but drowned yourself instead
and different
than waking the next day
vowing to do better
no
stuck
between
any future
and a lacking as big
moving
as slow
as you'd expect
given the clarity
oh
if only I were cold
I'd at least know
to start out towards a blanket
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