Listless


Tracing your face with my finger
I am fates finest fool.
Wishing upon stars that I’m told burned out, ages ago.
I’m much too hopeful given my history.
I should let go
but my feet stay rooted
even as my ass is booted.
Strange how the knowing
holds me hostage,
wondering about sanity
and the sinister cost of faith.
 

Published by Bexley Benton. (Pen name)

I am B (call me BB and I will gut you) I like daisies, books, and men who understand the wisdom of Kermit the Frog.

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