Magoo is here, but he's really not. I'm tired of being alone in a room full of people.
Slipping in quicksand,
I'm drowning in air.
Empty bed, cold red sheets
wrap me up
straitjacket.
Bad TV flickers,
Thursday night
mental masturbation
without climax.
I'm trying really hard not to complain, not to whine, to keep to myself, but I'm finding it hard to breathe.
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