smear on the smile and morning cosmetics
for these days each in succession/secession...
Were perhaps inappropriately appropriated
to certain pirouetting schedules.
Biding my time in queue.
Unfortunately the burden of my years are yet,
too heavy and full, did spill over their,
seething contents upon you undeserving.
I greatly fear and loathe for you to realise,
the dimensional actuality of all this ugliness.
The true proportions of my despair...
After all then retreat would prove blameless, necessary.
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